The Lady of Ise
by IKnowNot
Summary: AU. A marriage with a Himura, the son of their enemy? Kaoru wants nothing to do with it. She will do all she can to avoid it. One night, she flees her family estate. And meets a certain red haired boy.
1. Escape

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to Rurouni Kenshin. Applies to all chapters.

**A/N: **My attempt at writing some (relatively) light-hearted story for a change, and a romance at that. Characters are probably going to be a bit OOC, although I'll try to avoid that, so tell me when they are, ne?

* * *

**The Lady of Ise**  
By IKnowNot

**Part I**

** Chapter I**

- 

She was a lady. Oh, she wasn't one to flaunt that fact, but the simple truth was, she had been bred a lady and has been meticulously taught to behave as one all her life. Her manners were flawless, her façade one of cool perfection. And who cared about what she really thought? Her emotions were always firmly held in check behind her impeccable mask. It was second nature to her, her upbringing had made sure of that.

To her father's acquaintance visiting their family estate she offered warm welcome and acted as a perfect hostess. To would-be-suitors she gave such a gentle rebuttal that they departed even more amorous than before. To servant she was firm and kind, and she directed them with precision and without cruelty. She was, in short, the image of the perfect woman.

This particular evening though, looking at her reflection in the mirror adorning her large bedroom, she felt a nasty anxiety in her stomach. Oh, mind you, the exterior image she presented was still one of sheer composure and confidence, but deep down, Kaoru couldn't help but feel like a rabbit caught in the hunter's trap.

Her chambermaid knelt behind her, the comb soothing through Kaoru's long strands of hairs in a caressing motion, gentle and calming. There was a dinner to attend to, one where childhood friends of her father would be present, and she had to look her best. She sighed.

"Is there something wrong, my lady?" her maid asked, her hands suspended.

"Nothing, Megumi."

Her maid was still unconvinced. "My lady, I've served you all those years, and I can tell when something's amiss. You know you can always confide in me, my lady."

That was true, Kaoru knew. Megumi has always been loyal to her, never betraying her, even in the face of her father's anger. She was more than a servant, and even if their ranks were far apart, Kaoru would not hesitate to call her her closest friend. Still, Kaoru had to keep her plan secret for it to work. The slightest misplaced word could be its ruin. Secrecy and stealth were key.

Seeing her silence, Megumi resumed her work, combing once again through her hair. Yet she could somehow feel her maid's reprobation, and the movements of the comb almost felt full of reproach. She sighed again. A moment passed.

She looked up finally, jerking her head suddenly. That startled her maid. "Fine. First you'll have to swear upon what you hold most holy that you'll keep silent."

Megumi laid a hand on her heart. A wicked gleam entered her eyes, soon disappearing. "I swear, upon what I hold most holy."

Kaoru caught Megumi's mischievous look, but that didn't worry her. Megumi, she knew, tended to become like that when something excited her. "Ok, and listen well…."

* * *

The dinner repast was a torture. She had to smile and act like the house's mistress she was, and pretend to enjoy the lecherous glances several guest were throwing at her. Their wives acted as if they saw nothing, sure sign, Kaoru thought, that it wasn't the first time their husbands acted thus. One appeared even afraid of her spouse, which made Kaoru dislike the man in question on the spot. 

During the meal, she entertained the guests, with meaningless chatter, giving them bland but courteous answers when they asked her about this or that. The food held no savor for her, yet she ate it with bonhomie. No one could have guessed at her distress and her cold resolve under her fashionable mask. And all the while, all she could think of was of the single event that overthrew her whole life.

A servant had come to her, bearing the message that her father asked for her presence. And so she went. It was a frisk autumn afternoon, she remembered quite well, and yellow tinted leaves carpeted their garden's floor under a dull sun.

Her father was in the room that served him as a study, sitting in front of a table. He was composing a letter, his hand firm and assured, and his bearing that of a seasoned warrior despite the gray that had begun to appear on his temples.

"You called for me, father?" she asked, kneeling at his side.

She remembered the look her father gave her then, full of affection, yet iron in its determination. "Yes, my dear child," he said. He showed her the letter he was writing. "Lord Himura has written to me to ask your hand for his younger son."

Kaoru shot straight up. "I hope you sent the perfidious snake to hell, father. How dare he, taunting us thus, when he has our mother's blood on his hands. He must be laughing now, the old…."

"Kaoru," her father interrupted. He didn't raise his voice; there was no need to do so. His natural commanding presence silenced her as effectively as if she had suddenly turned mute. She subdued, kneeling back.

"I have decided to accept his offer."

She shot up again, faster than before if it was even possible. She opened her mouth agape, but no sound would come out. She stared at her father, incredulous. Surely, this was a joke. Or maybe a bad dream from which she would soon awaken. Not even in her worst nightmares had she dared to imagine that one day she would have to wed a scion of the Himura.

"I am writing to his father on this very subject," her father continued, feigning to not remark her stupor. "I am proposing that you two will wed in two months time. It will be an auspicious period assuredly. I am sure the lord will have no objections."

Kaoru found her voice at last. "Tw-two months time," she stammered. "Father, you can't be thinking of mother's death anniversary—"

"Precisely, Kaoru. What better symbol could there be? All the lords of Japan will know that our two houses are feuding no longer. It is the perfect occasion to bury our mutual hatred and build new relations."

"Fa-father, have you gone mad? How-how could you do this? How could you wed me to our most hated enemy? How—"

"Enough!" her father had shouted then. She remembered it well. That lone word had rang like a condemnation, sealing her fate.

Oh, how she had pleaded with him then, with screams and tears and all the weapons a frail woman has at her disposition. She questioned his good sense. She threw a tantrum. Why did she have to marry a Himura of all people? If her father absolutely wanted to marry her off, why not to a Hibito or a Kazukani? Surely, she had enough suitors who would be more than willing, if given the slightest chance. Yet it availed her nothing. Nothing would budge him.

Their house, her father said, was weak and plagued with enemies and scavengers waiting for his demise. What would happen to her then? She would be molested, maybe sold in one of the pleasure houses of Kyoto, a fallen woman like so many others. He was doing it for her own security, he said. The Himuras were a strong clan, who held Ise with a hand of steel. The Kamiyas couldn't afford to continue their long-lasting feud with them. Besides, he needed a strong son-in-law who could protect her after his death, and the younger Himura was already rumored to be one of Japan's most lethal warriors.

For days and weeks she refused to talk to her father, avoiding him as she could. Then a letter from lord Himura came. He agreed to the wedding date, and wrote that he looked forward to the day their two families would at long last make their peace and join their blood.

A plan grew in Kaoru's panicked mind then. She pretended to accept the wedding to come, and made peace with her father to all outer appearances. She made her preparations in great secret, trusting no one but herself, for fear that her father would discover what she was scheming. The plan matured, and her resolve strengthened over time.

And it was to come into play this very night.

So she endured the dinner with good grace, letting nothing of her inner thoughts filter through. And if she sometimes shivered for no apparent reason, it was from anticipation and, yes, from trepidation. The guest on her right, a lovely woman of no more than twenty-five springs, asked her if she was cold, but Kaoru only smiled. There was a world, she was coming to realize, between planning and execution. Yet she would not back down.

When she was finally back in her room, tired, yet adrenaline rising in her system, Megumi was there, waiting for her. Kaoru softly closed the sliding doors.

"All is ready, my lady."

Kaoru gazed at her maid. When she had told her of her plan, Megumi had first tried to dissuade her. But she gave up quickly when she saw that it was no use, and insisted instead to help Kaoru. Part of it was from genuine affection and care, Kaoru knew well. But the other part, she suspected, had very much to do with the excitement of the unknown, of adventure. Megumi, under her reserved façade, was a romantic at heart, Kaoru had long discovered, still waiting for her prince charming.

"The guards?" Kaoru asked at length.

"I slipped something into their food. They should be sound asleep very soon."

"The horses?"

"We can't use your father's horses, my lady. They risk to make too much noise, and wake all the household," Megumi said gravely.

Kaoru's face fell. Megumi was right, and she kicked herself mentally for missing that detail. Then she saw Megumi's grin.

"I went to see Watanabe-san downtown while you were entertaining the guests," her maid informed her. "He's an old friend of mine. He will lend us two horses for no fee."

Kaoru started. Fear was beginning to bubble inside her chest.

"He won't say anything to living soul," Megumi reassured her. "I did him some favor in the past, after all—"

"I don't want to know what kind of favor you are talking about," Kaoru interrupted hurriedly. Blood was rushing to her face.

"What are you thinking of, my lady?" Megumi retorted with a false scandalized look. "I swear, young people those days…. I just helped to cure Watanabe-san's daughter of her illness last year." She grinned slyly.

"Oh….Oh." Kaoru's face even grew hotter, from shame this time. Her maid was becoming more daring with her, Kaoru noticed. Maybe Megumi felt that they were on more level ground, now that they were de facto accomplices. Kaoru pondered this, and couldn't decide if she liked the changes or not.

"We will have to walk a little, my lady," her maid warned. "But it's not far off. Fifteen minutes if we make haste."

Fifteen minutes. It was much, Kaoru thought, for two vulnerable women alone in the night. She had some skills with a katana, her father made sure of that, but still, she had no illusion of what would happen if she was going to get into a fight. Yet fifteen minutes were nothing, if it was the price to pay for freedom. Kaoru ground her teeth.

"Oh, and my lady," said Megumi, approaching. Her maid clutched Kaoru's long raven hair, and started to braid it into a ponytail. "This will make you less recognizable, in case we run into trouble," she explained.

Kaoru nodded.

That night, while the quarter moon was still young in the sky, and the darkness velvet embrace still soft and not yet insisting, two women took off the rich estate in silence, amidst guards resting on the ground, asleep.


	2. Boy meets girl, or girl meets boy

**A/N: **I know that the theme has been beaten to death already, even though I never read Cartland. This was supposed to be stress-relief. I posted it with zero rewriting, and almost no editing. But since people seem to actually read it, I'll try to put more thoughts into it. Thanks for all your feedbacks, much appreciated. Cheers.

* * *

His sword dashed with deadly acumen, too fast to see for the naked eye, cutting through bones and flesh with chilling ease. Blood spattered all around him, tainting the stone walls in thousand umber droplets. Bodies slumped to the ground, and the echoes of swords clattering resonated through the quiet night. 

He stood there then, his sword still in his hand, alone in his islet of calm amidst a pool of crimson. He stood there, his youthful face emotionless, cruel yet innocent, his hair glinting white and orange under the shy moonlight.

It was, Kaoru thought, mesmerized, a vision to behold.

* * *

Whatever men would say about her, Kaoru was not one prone to impulsive decisions. Her plan had come to her over time, and she had thought long and hard about it, weighting the for and the against in her mind. Thus, it was not one born from the anger of the moment, nor was it the whim of a spoiled child, but one matured from constant reflection. 

It had been guided by a growing sense of hopelessness, though. As she proceeded through the streets of her native Izushi, Kaoru acknowledged that fact with resignation. It was, she knew, not the best way to decide one's future; one should always be clear-minded when doing so. It could very well, Kaoru thought, have led her into making the wrong choice entirely. Her father would be crushed, she realized with a tugging at her heart. She left him a letter explaining her reasons, but still she couldn't shake off the guilt she was feeling at this very moment.

A turn left, then right. Beside her Megumi's breathing were becoming more labored, and her own lungs were beginning to burn. Her own breaths left a trail of mist in the night's air. Her cheeks were hot from exertion, and the slightest gust of wind felt like countless needles stabbing at her skin. A snowflake landed on her nose. She looked up at the sky. Gloomy clouds could be guessed through the darkness, and tiny white crystals were beginning to float down.

There would be political outfalls as well, of course. News of her disappearance would soon break out; something of that magnitude couldn't be hidden for long. Her father's position would be weakened. Long time enemies or greedy opportunists may see it as the perfect moment to strike, to say nothing about the Himuras. Oh yes, the Himuras. She pictured their disappointment and anger with a bitter satisfaction.

What was she to do, given the circumstances? Others would have simply bowed at their fate, submitting to their scripted part in the grand scheme of things. But not she. She was not a docile woman, refused to bend, even if she risked to break. She had a strong will, had inherited that from her mother.

The thought of her mother gave her new strengths, and dissolved the doubts that were creeping into her mind. Megumi took left, and she followed. A narrow alley, dimly lit. Some rough-looking men stood there, talking between them. They gave her glances that were suspicious and lewd at the same time. The sword at her waist was attracting their attention, she saw, trying hard to not look at them overtly. Megumi laid a soft had on her arm, trying to calm Kaoru, and maybe herself. They ran past them. Kaoru could still feel their gazes lingering on her back. Her heart was racing hard, threatening to bounce out of her chest. There was apprehension, yes. And there, buried somewhere, there was also exhilaration, undeniable and untamed.

Finally they emerged into the light again, as they took a sharp turn right. Kaoru instantly bumped against a wall of hard muscle and bones, throwing her backward. She looked up. Her elation swiftly died.

Glaring down at her was the biggest man she'd ever seen. Tall and bulky, his arms were thicker than her thighs, and his bushy moustache was particularly striking on his egg-bald head. His wild eyes fixed her in heavy silence. His odor, she noticed, was extremely unpleasant. Several men stood behind him, all armed. Ronins, she thought. They reeked of alcohol.

Megumi helped her back on her feet. Kaoru tried to appear calm and unconcerned. She dusted off her kimono, straightened out the cloth. "Please pardon me, sir," she said to the big man, bowing slightly.

He answered with a derisive snort. "Ye think that ye'll get away with a simple 'sorry?'" he sneered. "Gotta do more than that."

Kaoru remained defiant, stood her ground. Her maid was throwing her worried glances.

"Heh, ye have some spirit, got to admit that." He approached, tucking a stubby finger under her chin, lifting it towards him. She looked back at him, unwavering.

"Tell us, what's a girlie doing with a sword, hmm?"

She glared at him. "You, sir, are an ill-mannered oaf," she retorted, her voice icy. It was wrong to provoke him, she knew. They were far too many to deal with, and each minute lost here could mean her plan's failure. Yet she couldn't resist, her spirit would not bow down.

"Ill-mannered oaf?" The giant boomed into laughter. "You hear that, guys?" Behind him the men sniggered.

"You shouldn't be laughing at your own failings. It is the true mark of imbeciles," she said, her hands slightly shaking. The words seemed to have gained a will of their own. She regretted uttering them as soon as they left her mouth, and yet they gave her a strange satisfaction. Let it not be said that Kamiya Kaoru could be cowed by a brainless ruffian.

A soft hand on her shoulder. Kaoru turned, saw Megumi's distress.

"My lady," Megumi whispered, "those men look dangerous. Maybe you shouldn't—"

Too late. Despite the chilly temperature, the man's face was reddening at an alarming rate. "Ye've some tongue," he growled. Then he leered. "I've something better in mind for it."

One of his massive hands landed on her breast.

"Don't touch me, smelly beast." She pushed his hand away.

He smirked. "So you want it the hard way, eh? I don't mind, I like it when they squirm."

Megumi interposed herself. "Please excuse my sister's rudeness," she said, bowing. "She's yet to—"

A casual backhand blow from the giant samurai sent her flying sideways. She crashed against the wall, falling on the ground.

"Megumi!" Kaoru exclaimed. She ran to her maid, knelt down by her side. "Are you hurt, Megumi?"

"Please, don't worry about me, my l… Kaoru," replied Megumi with a weak smile on her bloodied lips.

"Isn't that charming," one of the man snickered. The warriors were closing in on them, their frames shadowing the moonlight till it was entirely gone. Then all that stood before Kaoru was a giant, his frame all the more fearsome for its darkness.

Kaoru unsheathed her katana, and took a fighting pose.

"What're ye going to do with that?" the big samurai taunted. "Don't play with dangerous toys, ye'll get hurt." His right arm reached out.

She slashed. The man was much faster than what his bulk would have suggested. Nonetheless, Kaoru could feel her blade sink into flesh, draw first blood. Kaoru observed, fascinated, as the man jerked back, roaring a savage curse. This was real, she thought suddenly. There was a real man in front of her, and her sword had just cut into him. No amount of training could have prepared her for this. Her hands shook, and she could smell sweat, mixed with the bitter stench of blood. It was, she realized, her own perspiration.

"Bitch," the big man snarled, trying to stop his bleeding. "Ye'll pay for that. Ye'll pay good." The men behind him drew out their swords.

This was bad. She could have tried to flee, if she were alone. She was fast enough, and could outrun most of the guards at her estate. She glanced sidelong at Megumi. She couldn't leave her friend like this. She firmed her hands. They advanced towards her, prudently, yet confident in their skills and number. Silently Kaoru cursed her own foolishness, and fate's cruelty. This night of all night, it had to—

"Is this how samurais behave?" a new voice cut in, low and flat.

A man in black kimono and light blue hakama stood there. He couldn't be older than seventeen, Kaoru thought. His hair the color of soft fire was pulled into a proud ponytail. A woman stood a few feet behind him, calm and expressionless; she was, Kaoru remarked, very beautiful.

"Pass your way, kid," one of the ronins said, his crooked teeth very yellow in his mouth. "You don't want to get hurt."

But the newcomer advanced towards them, unconcerned. "Scum have no place ordering me," he said. "Leave the ladies in peace now, and I shall spare your miserable lives."

"Boy, ye think you can take all of us by yourself?" the big samurai asked, incredulous. "Ye must've lost yer head."

The young man was almost upon them now. One of the giant's underlings lunged towards him with raised blade.

A spray of blood.

It happened so fast. Kaoru didn't even see the young warrior draw his weapon. A fraction of a second, and then his opponent was already dead, a huge gash gaping across his chest. The orange headed samurai continued to move forward, unperturbed. He was, Kaoru realized, a man used to killing.

"Whatchy'all doing?" the giant man shouted to his men. He drew his own katana with his valid hand, and, with a yell, led the charge. Soon they were all over the newcomer.

And soon they fell. The boy's blade danced with deadly acumen, cutting through bones with chilling ease. Bodies slumped to the ground in muted sounds. The echoes of swords clattering on the hard ground clanged through the quiet night.

It had been, Kaoru realized, an unfair fight. The ronins had been half-drunk, and the boy was clearly their master in the arts of the sword. There wasn't even a scratch on his body.

He stood there then, in the soft snow, his sword still in his hand, alone in his islet of calm amidst a pool of crimson. He stood there, his youthful face emotionless and innocent, his calm almost surrealistic to the point of cruelty. His hair glinted a tame white and orange under the shy moon light.

He turned his head then, and looked straight at her.

He was, Kaoru thought, her eyes unable to divert themselves from his piercing gaze, a vision to behold.


	3. Departure

**A/N**: And God said, "let mortals know pain and torments." Thus He created exams…. Anyway, I told myself that this thing would be lighthearted, but it still comes out slowpaced and descriptive. Blah. And thanks to all of you who provided feedback (even though I feel some negative vibes towards Tomoe…). Oh, and longer chapters? Well, give me 48 hours days, and I'll write a 20 pages chapter a day.

* * *

There was blood, somewhere. Dark pools in the dull lantern light, easily mistaken for water were it not for the ashen reek. The snow fell harder under the veiled moon, clothing the world below in a soft gray and white attire. The wind picked up, whispering through the night now gone silent; dead leaves floated in its wake. 

Yet she saw nothing of that. His gaze held hers. Kaoru found that she couldn't breath anymore.

Then it was gone. He broke the contact, moving his eyes to Megumi's still kneeling form. How long did it last? She knew not. It had seemed an eternity to her. She let a breath out. He was, she observed, looking as intensely at her maid as he did with her. Somehow she felt belittled, and almost immediately berated herself for such lowly thoughts. Almost.

He sheathed his blade then, and walked to them, his ponytail floating freely behind him. He offered a hand to Megumi, who took it. His hand, Kaoru noticed as he helped Megumi to her feet, was smooth and graceful, almost feminine, not at all what she would have expected from a seasoned warrior.

"Are you all right, lady?" he asked to her maid.

"I-I am fine, thank you." Megumi's hand rose to her lips, her fingers touching a small cut, wipping out the dried blood. The bleeding had stopped.

"It was careless of you," he said with his monotonous voice. "Two ladies, walking the city's streets so late without any protection."

"Ah, we are mere travelers," Kaoru replied, forcing a smile on her lips. "And we were in a hurry, or else we would not have braved the night's dangers." She bowed, deep enough to mark her gratitude, yet not enough to appear too meek. A chilly gust of wind rushed against her skin. "We are greatly thankful for your help, sir."

The samurai's female companion was approaching them, her steps muted in the thin layer of snow. A single braid fastened her lush hair, and white crystals dusted her pale skin. "Was it necessary to shed so much blood?" she asked, her voice very quiet.

"They were warned," the young man said, turning sideway to her. "Bandits, or ronins who stood so low as to threaten defenseless women. Either way, they didn't deserve to live." He turned back, looking at Kaoru. The wind howled. "Travelers, you said. Where were you going?"

Kaoru opened her mouth, but her maid intervened faster. "Kind sir, we were fleeing from a most vile villain." Megumi had, Kaoru remarked, a beguiling smile on her face. Kaoru knew how devastating that smile could be, had seen how her maid used it on countless males to get what she wanted. Even Kaoru's father wasn't immune to it.

The young man didn't seem affected by it. He only frowned. "Villain?"

"Yes," affirmed Megumi. A small flick of her hand sent her hairs flying. A charming pink adorned her cheeks, despite the cold, or maybe because of it. "I have been unfortunate enough to attract the attention of this city's lord." She sighed outrageously. "When I refused his advances, he took umbrage and flew in a terrible anger. He ordered me captured. We were running from his men when we bumped into those thugs." She glanced around him, as if she feared those very men would creep upon her this very moment.

"I see," he said. He didn't look around. "And you planned to leave the city?"

"Indeed," Megumi answered with a bright smile. "We were on our way to our inn. Our horses are there, you see. We planned to leave this awful town as soon as we got them."

He looked at Kaoru, and there was something in his expression that would have made a brave man afraid. "Were would you be bound?" he asked her.

Lie! Lie, her mind told her. She stared into his lavender eyes, and found that she couldn't. "Kyoto," she whispered.

The ghost of a smile touched his lips. "How curious, it is my destination as well. I will accompany you."

Kaoru's heart skipped a heartbeat. She made to protest, but he silenced her with a raised hand. "No roads is secure nowadays," he explained, as if lecturing her. "Many of the samurai caste have turned into bandits. They plague this country. Two women traveling alone are too much at risk. The bushido commands me to protect the weak."

Kaoru felt panic rising in her chest. She couldn't afford such a burden, not now. Her plan came before anything else, and it required stealth more than anything. "It is very generous of you, but we—" A hand on her shoulder, gripping it, hard. She winced.

"We would be flattered," said Megumi, still wearing her smile. "We would feel much more comfortable under your arm's powerful protection."

What was her maid doing? Kaoru kept her calm appearance, and even forced a grateful grimace on her face.

The samurai simply nodded. "It is settled then." He turned towards his companion who had stayed silent during all this time. "This is where we will part," he said to her.

The woman remained silent, watching him with a faint shimmer of curiosity. At length she took one of his hands in both of hers. "Take care of yourself."

"I always do."

Kaoru was boiling inside. Even as she observed the two of them sharing a long silent look, she couldn't help but feel that her plan stood in more and more perils. She was losing control of the events, and her meticulously thought-out plan was becoming out of hand. She felt like nothing more than a ragged toy in fate's cruel hands.

A hand on her arm.

"This is not all for the worst, my lady," Megumi whispered into her ear. "We _will_ be more in security with him around. Besides, your father's men will surely be searching for two women traveling alone. It might be easier to elude them this way."

Kaoru thought about it, and nodded slightly. The idea had merit. She threw a sharp glance at her maid. Megumi was become more daring, taking away the initiative from her. Her maid blushed apologetically, as if she could hear her mind. Kaoru sighed. She raised her head, looking for the orange-haired swordsman.

They were still gazing at each other, Kaoru noticed. They seemed to be able to communicate without words, and emotions passed between them that Kaoru couldn't start to understand.

He removed his hand from hers. "Farewell…, mother."

With a last glance, the woman turned, and walked back from where she came from. There were warriors waiting for her, Kaoru realized suddenly. Waiting at a respectful distance, discreet yet watchful. Kaoru hadn't noticed them at all.

The samurai eyes skimmed over Kaoru. "Let's go," he said, his tone stark.

She glared at him, even if he didn't seem to notice at all. Men courted her. Men offered her rich gifts, and composed glamorous poems for her. They sang about her sparkling and her sensual demeanor. They leeched at her, dreamed of her. She wasn't one to be ignored. Never before had she met a man so insensitive to her. Never before had she been so casually dismissed.

She caught a sweet smell when he walked past. It was, she recognized, the scent of white plum blossoms.

* * *

She was trouble. A single glance had sufficed to tell him that. And more, she troubled him, for reasons he was at a loss to explain. As they waited in front of the plain-looking townhouse, he took a discreet look sideways, one he was sure she wouldn't catch. Her clothes were certainly unconventional. Women wearing hakamas were very few and far between, yet no one would have mistaken her for a man. She wasn't unpleasant to watch. And she was cute when she was lying; her face was pretty enough, and her skin appeared smooth as a baby's. 

Deliberately he strayed his thoughts from his father's newest wife. He raised his head, baring his face to the sky, and closed his eyes. The chill night caressed him, and snow came to rest lightly on his visage. The whimsy wind twirled through his hairs, ruffling them. He took a breath, felt the cool clean air pass through his nose, fill his lungs.

The scent of white plum blossom wouldn't leave him.

The sound of hooves snapping on the ground. He opened his lids again. The other woman—her name was Megumi, or so it seemed—was leading out two horses. As expected. He allowed himself a soundless chuckle. He could very well have asked one of his men to bring him a horse, but why shouldn't he be allowed to enjoy himself a little? He stepped forwards.

The two horses were adequate enough, even if they were no war mounts. Two mares, one, gray-coated, stamping with impatience, and the other nickering softly, its flanks heaving slowly. He laid a hand on the gray-coated one. It calmed down. A good sensitive horse, he thought, belying its plain appearance. An inexperienced rider might have some trouble with it, but it promised to be an even mount, provided the hand guiding it was firm but gentle. He leapt into its saddle. The mare received his weight without protest. He led it beside the lady Kaoru, who was already preparing herself to mount the other horse. He extended a hand towards her.

She glared at it, and then up, at him. It was only logical to assume that she would take command of the other mare. He wasn't really supposed to know that, but she would be a more accomplished rider than her companion, he had few doubts about that. His gesture was meant to be seen as deliberate provocation. It was a challenge of sorts, of course.

For the second time that night, their gaze locked firmly into each other. A moment passed, with neither of them saying a word, neither of them flinching. She stood proud, calm and composed despite the earlier fright. She would refuse, obviously, and he wanted to see her do so. Her eyes, he saw, was a deep ocean, and against his will, a memory surfaced into his mind. Another pair of eyes, dark brown, tender, entangled into his, even as soft lips brushed over his cheeks. _"I'm sorry,"_ she had said then.

He felt a hand in his own. He stared at it for a fraction of a second, surprised. The he clasped it, his emotions reined in, and lifted her with ease into the saddle in front of him. She was light as a snowflake. And her skin as cold. He pulled her closer to him still, till he could feel her soft and lithe body lying against his chest. She tensed, but didn't protest. The fragrance of jasmine reached him, subduing the memory of white plum blossom.

She turned her face to his. "I don't even know your name, kind sir," she said.

He could feel the first genuine smile in days break on his lips. "Shinta. I am named Shinta." He glanced beside him. The Megumi woman was already in her saddle. He clutched the lead. "To Kyoto, then." He dug lightly his heels into his mare's flanks.

The snow came, and went. The first rays of dawn found a bed of blinding white, and three travelers well ahead on the road to the imperial capital.

* * *

**Notes: **Before anyone reports me for incest or whatnot, note that Tomoe obviously isn't Kenshin natural mother. I quote myself: "his father's newest wife." 

Hakamas are those pleated skirt-like pants. Bushido is samurais' honor code.

**Edit: **Oops, I meant jasmine.


	4. On the road

**Notes:** Heh, looks like people don't care much for chapter 3. I admit I screwed up the flowers. I did a quick edit of it. Thanks to everyone for pointing out all the mistakes. There's going to be more of them probably, so feel free to notice them to me, and I'll fix them. But don't do so anonymously; if you don't have an account here, leave your email, so that I can know where to send hate mails.

Scarlet Rayne: I warned that this would be AU. It's the first thing in the summary…. Glad you find this well-written though.

* * *

She'd always thought of horses as lovely creatures, docile and intelligent behind their watery eyes. She'd loved the way their smooth coats felt under her hand, the sound of their puffing, their gentle nickering when she approached them. She'd loved their thick manes and their impatient stamping. 

Now she knew the truth. They were stupid animals, and even lowly peasants had more manners than them. She hated them.

So it was with certain relief that Kaoru welcomed their stop at the mountain shop at midday. They had been riding for more than eight hours now, and she felt dirty, extenuated, and hungry. Oh, of course she protested about the need to make haste, to put more distance between and the men her fa—the lord of Izushi would be sure send after them. But even to her own ears it sounded half-hearted.

After all, nothing could be more urgent or dire than a hurting backside.

It burned even stronger than after a spanking, and the last time she earned one of those was when she was seven years old, when she had thrown a tantrum at a dinner in front of all of her father's friends, just because she didn't like the taste of the fish. She'd even, she remembered with a smile, sent a bowl of soup flying straight in the face of an unfortunate guest, whose single mistake had been to be seated right across her.

But she hadn't smiled then. Her father had punished her, hard. Such insults demanded retribution, especially when the insulted persons were of high status and nobility. And this particular guest, as it happened, had been a nephew of the emperor.

Amusing, she thought, the memories that a sore bottom could bring back.

The samurai—his name was Shinta, he had said—jumped off the mare, and offered her a hand. She took it, smiling graciously at him. It was a smile that had power, she was aware of that. It had turned hardened warriors into pampering fools. He, on the other hand, seemed utterly disinterested by it. She was half expecting that, in truth. Her smile didn't fade. She went off the mount.

Their arrival didn't go unnoticed. There were a few men sitting around the tables outside the shop. They have been staring at them when the three of them halted in front of the shop. There was even a little girl, an adorable thing with lovely hands and spotted skin.

The sun was glaring brightly, yet it brought little warmth. The cold persisted around them, lingering in the foggy air and snow-covered landscape. A few nimble clouds fleeted in the blue field overhead, small reminder of the dark nimbus of yesterday. A few birds chirped on branches nearby. The men were obviously farmers, resting in the middle of their hard labor, their strong arms and sun-bleached skin exuding a rustic charm. She inhaled, savoring the fresh mountainous scent. For a moment she forgot the precariousness of her situation, the urgency and desperation that brought all this.

She was aching, dust-covered, and so tired she could hardly keep straight. And she never felt so _alive_.

Shinta was ordering food, she saw. As she detailed him, she thought that some women would have found him attractive, certainly. That is, if one liked stonehearted and expressionless jerks. His chest on her back had felt warm and almost… comforting. She brushed off this ridiculous notion. Comforting? Ha, she must've been really tense and tired to be even thinking such thoughts. She shook lightly her head, and walked to a table. Her buttocks hurt like hell. It took a supreme to refrain from wincing. She thought herself very brave. Her maid followed her.

The men's eyes were following her, she noticed. She kept her cool composure, yet she could feel fear creeping inside her. She slowed her steps, waiting for Megumi to catch up to her.

"They are staring at me," she whispered urgently to her maid, while still keeping a pleasant expression. "Did they recognize me?" She was known, after all, and they weren't that far from Izushi yet.

"I don't think simple peasants would recognize you, my lady," Megumi whispered back.

"But see, they won't quit looking at me."

Megumi coughed. "That is…. You see my lady, you should stop walking the way you do, if you don't want to attract attention."

Kaoru frowned. "The way I walk? What's wrong with it?"

"My lady," Megumi murmured, hesitating, "your bearing is too regal."

"Too regal?" Kaoru only frowned harder.

"Just observe me, my lady. See how my gait is more relaxed. And how my spine isn't so straight as to make me appear like a walking statue."

"I see," Kaoru replied, puzzled. She proceeded to imitate Megumi, tried to swing her hips a little. It was awkward. She threw a furtive glance around. The men were only staring at her more intensely. She remained tense.

They sat down at an unoccupied table. The damp bench creaked, and there were stains on the table's wooden surface that looked suspiciously like grease and crushed rice.

"We should have tinted your hair, my lady," Megumi said at her side. "'Tis unfortunate we didn't get the time yet. You are standing out too much." She carefully examined Kaoru up and down. "Hopefully, with a few days worth of dust, you won't be too recognizable when we arrive in Kyoto." She grimaced. "Provided we make it that far, that is."

"We will make it, I have no doubt." Kaoru gazed sideways to Shinta. "But first we must get rid of this burden."

"My lady—"

She silenced her maid with a sharp glance. She didn't argue yesterday night as both he and Megumi had insisted he stuck around. She could recognize a defeat when she saw one, and accept it with good grace. Besides, time had been of the essence, and she couldn't have stood loitering there when there were more urgent matters to attend to.

But more importantly, she didn't argue, because ladies didn't argue. It was… puerile, immature. A subtle woman achieved her goals without resorting to such lowly means. Kaoru argued only when under extreme duress.

Shinta approached, carrying bowls of curry rice in his hands. He put them on the table, and sat across Kaoru. He offered chopsticks to the two women. Megumi took her pair.

Kaoru ignored him. She stared at the bowl in front of her with repulsion. "What is this?"

His arm was still hanging over the table, holding out a pair of chopsticks. He arched an eyebrow. "Curry rice, obviously," he said.

She pushed the bowl away. "I refuse to eat this. I am allergic to curry."

He only shrugged. "It was curry rice or raw-fish ramen."

"I shall abstain myself then"

"Eat." His voice snapped like a whip. He softened his tone. Maybe he realized he had been too dry? "How long has it been since your last meal? You will pass out if you don't feed yourself, and I care nothing for passed-out women."

"And I care nothing for your taste in women," she said icily. He had a point though, she thought. Still…. "I will not eat this."

"You will," he said simply.

"I will not," she stated. Megumi was observing the two of them, her hands suspended, Kaoru noticed from the corner of her eyes. As were the filthy and ragged peasants.

"Eat."

Oh, the nerve of him. The—the jerk. She frowned. She couldn't think of any appropriate word with which to term him. In truth, "jerk" was one of the precious few vulgar words she knew of, and that was only because she heard Megumi use it once about their cook.

She took a calming breath. Her stomach was urgently reclaiming its due. Accept defeat with grace, she thought. Ladies didn't argue. Extreme duress.

She ate.

Later, after a silent and surprisingly pleasant meal, she insisted they resume their journey. They were, she said, in a hurry to arrive to Kyoto. Furthermore, she feared the incensed lord of Izushi would be relentless in his pursuit of Megumi.

"I doubt that he would go at such length for a passing fancy, even one possessing lady Megumi's charms," Shinta replied then. Her maid blushed, she saw. So weak, she thought, to be coaxed by a few words. "Such men's interest tends to be short-lived. He will have found another woman to harass already by now."

Was it her imagination, or was his voice somehow bitter?

"And if you were in such a hurry," he continued, "you should have taken the main road to Kyoto, rather than some obscure detour." He rose. "I am told there is river and a hot spring nearby. You ladies can refresh yourself there, if you wish."

Megumi's eyes sparkled. "A hot spring? It would be—"

Kaoru gripped her maid's arm under the table, hard. Megumi gave a light start.

"How wonderful!" Kaoru exclaimed. "I feel so dirty after so many hours on the road." She rose, offered a hand to Megumi, smiling. "Let's go, Megu."

Her maid clasped her hand, smiling uneasily. "With pleasure… Kaoru."

Kaoru made a quick calculation. The mares were attached twenty feet away. Not nearly enough for them to jump into the saddles and take off before he could react. She leaned towards Megumi. "Let's pretend we're going to take the horses to refresh them at the river," she whispered. "And—"

"Lady Kaoru," Shinta called.

She stopped, and turned, plastering an agreeable expression on her face. "Yes, kind sir?"

"The springs are this way," he indicated, pointing in the opposite direction. "Or so the esteemed shop-owner told me."

"Ah, we were taking the horse with us to—"

"No need to concern yourself with them," he interrupted. How rude of him to cut her off again in the middle of a sentence. "I will take care of that," he said.

She kept her expression mild. "Ah, we wouldn't presume to burden you with such mundane tasks."

"I insist."

Extreme duress. Damn him.

* * *

The hot springs felt divine after so many hours of rough ride. The place stood over a cliff of sorts, and was isolated enough to allow privacy. Snow-attired trees surrounded it like so many guardians. Megumi sighed contently as she luxuriated in the warm water, washing dust and sweat off her hair and skin. Near the river below, their companion was tending to the horses while they drank from the fresh water. 

"He is insufferable," her lady was saying beside her. "How dare a lowly warrior presume to command me."

Megumi allowed herself a private smile. The young samurai seemed to have got under her lady's skin, or at least struck a sensitive nerve. "His manners are a little blunt," she acknowledged. "However he looks efficient enough."

"Efficient?" Lady Kaoru gazed coolly at her. She knew that look. It was her mistress' way of expressing disapproval.

"Well, we should be grateful that he saved us from those thugs last night," she said in his defense. "Beside, he looks cute."

Megumi could have sworn her mistress choked then. Lady Kaoru coughed, and then pretended to busy herself washing herself. Megumi went behind her.

"He isn't ugly, I can admit that," said Lady Kaoru. "And he seems a good swordsman enough."

"Maybe I should seduce him." Megumi wondered while tending to her mistress hair. "He is quite my type, even if my lady doesn't seem to find him to her taste."

She didn't see it, but she could feel her lady's smile. "Megumi, don't you ever get tired of fooling around men?" she asked.

"Hmm, let me see." Megumi pretended to consider the question for a moment. "No."

Lady Kaoru splashed water in her direction. She ducked. "Megumi, you are impossible," the lady said.

"Beside," Megumi continued, getting back to her lady's admirable strands of black hair, "he might well be the man I've been waiting for. Good-looking, strong and gentle at the same time." She sighed dreamily. "Yes, I am definitely going to make a move."

Her lady's voice dropped several degrees. "I wouldn't be so sure of that," she said. "We are going to get rid of him at the first occasion. We mustn't arrive in his company in Kyoto. Besides," she said, her murmur so soft that Megumi had to prick up her ears to hear, "I hate men who don't know their proper places."

Megumi pretended she didn't catch the last part. "You are right of course, my lady." She acknowledged. He definitely struck a nerve.

In truth, it would be a good thing if he stuck around, Megumi thought. She wasn't totally indifferent to him, she admitted, but more importantly, that might foil her lady's plan. She'd told her mistress that it was foolishness, at least at the start. Now she kept it to herself, getting along so that her lady would agree to let her help. Lady Kaoru was young still, and Megumi just couldn't let her mistress run amok. She would stands by her lady's sides; it was her duty. But that didn't mean she'd changed her mind on that subject.

"Tonight," her lady was saying. "Tonight, while he's asleep, we will take the horses and get rid of him, and he would be none the wiser."

"He said he was going to Kyoto too," Megumi said, a trifle uneasy.

"Kyoto is a big city, I doubt we will see him there. And even if we did, it probably wouldn't matter then." The lady nodded her head in satisfaction.

"Are you finished?" a voice popped suddenly. Lady Kaoru turned her head, and stifled a scream.

Megumi turned also. There he was, standing by the hot springs. The sun in his back lent him a golden aura, while his silhouette stood threatening in shadows.

"J-jerk," her lady spat, ducking deeper into the water. Jerk? "Don't you have any decency, peeping on naked women?"

He wasn't baffled in the least. "It isn't as if I never saw naked women before," he retorted. "Anyway, we haven't got all day. I must be in Kyoto in two days at most. So get out of there." He turned his back to them, walking away. "And there's no need to hide in the water," he added. "It's transparent enough to see through."

Megumi thought that her lady might explode then, but she just remained dignified. Megumi could have sworn steam was pouring out from her nostrils, though.

* * *

Night had come upon them almost without warning. Days were short in winter, and shorter still, it seemed, this particular day. It had been fortunate, then, that they reached the inn before dusk. The hot springs' soothing waters were long forgotten by then. Kaoru felt more tired than in any other occasion she could remember. Every muscle in her body was screaming for rest. She had almost dozed off on the road. 

She dismounted her cursed mare, ignoring Shinta's extended hand. She didn't feel strong enough at the moment to deal with him. Her feet landed on the ground with as much grace as she could muster. It cost her every shred of willpower she had in her body, but she stood straight, her composure intact. She felt very proud of herself.

Shinta was observing her. His expression was unreadable as ever, yet she could feel his amusement. Was he interiorly laughing at her expense? How dared he. And how dared he look so fresh, as if he didn't go through a day's worth of riding on the back of the foulest beast to have ever existed on the face of Earth. Spiteful.

As he led their horses into the stables, Kaoru followed Megumi inside the inn. People glanced up when they entered. Not too regal, Kaoru remembered, not too stiff. She tried to walk more relaxed, slouching her hips. The result, she thought, was quite successful.

The place smelled… bad. It was a mix of sweat, alcohol and what felt suspiciously like failed cooking. The walls were a dull brown, but surprisingly clean.

A small man approached them, his skin wrinkled and greasy, his belly round. He smiled oily at them, unveiling a set of yellow and black teeth.

Kaoru spoke before he could utter a single word, for fear of having to smell his breath. "We will take two chambers. See the details with my servant." And without waiting for a reply she walked towards the wooden stairs.

"Of course, of course, my lady," the man—the inn's owner, she presumed—said to her back. She heard him bow several times. "Nami! Nami!" he called. A young plain-looking girl showed her head through a doorframe on the left. "Nami, show the ladies to their rooms. And be quick about it!"

"But, what rooms?" the girl asked, timidly. But he wasn't listening anymore. Shinta, she saw was coming in.

Nami showed them to a small room. The furnishing was plain. A chest and a single bed. Kaoru asked the girl for a room with two beds, but there weren't any unoccupied one, Nami had explained apologetically. Kaoru frowned then. How distasteful.

But it didn't really matter. She asked for change clothes. She had money, of course, and would pay. The girl acquiesced.

When she returned with the required clothes, Kaoru asked her to wake them at midnight. It was, she explained, a family custom, to offer a prayer to their ancestors at midnight each night. It was vital that they do so, she said, or the spirits would be greatly angered. There was no need to wake her servant up though. The girl nodded, and left them.

And so they awoke after more than five hours of much needed sleep, alert and refreshed. At least, Megumi was alert. She, on the other hand, was still groggy. They clothed themselves in their old garments, and went out of the chamber.

His room was two doors away from theirs; she had made sure to ask about it. And it was totally dark, without the slightest trace of light filtering under it. "He's asleep," she whispered to Megumi. "Let's go."

As silently as they could they walked to the exit, encountering no one on their way out. Kaoru felt a rushing sense of excitement. At long last she was going to be free of the meddlesome samurai. She stepped into the night.

He was there.

He sat on an eroded rock, his face turned to the starlit sky. He had his back turned to them, but somehow he felt her presence.

"Lovely night, isn't it?" he called, not looking at her.

She ground her teeth. She hated clingy men.

Megumi sighed, and gestured to her that she was going to get more sleep. Kaoru nodded. There was nothing they could do now. He had foiled her plans once again. She wondered if he was doing this on purpose. It was impossible of course, yet….

Her maid walked back inside. She, on the other hand, edged towards Shinta. The night was fresh, but not overly freezing. A soft breeze rustled the naked trees.

"What are you doing?" she asked him, keeping her tone mild, even though she wanted nothing more at this instant than to rip him to pieces.

"Why, I am admiring the nightly sky, of course." He finally glanced at her. "Now it begs the question, what are you doing awake at such a late hour, my lady?"

"I had some troubles sleeping, and I thought that perchance the fresh air might help sooth my weariness." She sat beside him on the rock.

"I thought you would be very tired after such a long ride," he said. "You will need the rest tomorrow, my lady."

"It doesn't matter."

"You told the innkeeper that I was your servant, my lady?" he asked, his tone light.

She almost blushed. "His teeth made me fear his breath," she explained honestly. "It was the easiest way I found to avoid smelling it."

"I see," he replied blandly.

And then he chuckled.

It was the first time she heard him laugh, she realized. The sound was surprising, soft and smooth yet sad at the same time.

She gazed up at the night sky. Stars shone there, bright yet impersonal, several of which she recognized. When she was small she would observe the sky each night, and her mother would teach her the name of the stars. Her mother had believed that one's fate could be read in them, in their pattern and the way they sparkled. "Lovely night," she murmured, and she genuinely thought it.

For a long moment the two of them sat side by side, in silence, their face turned up towards the vision of distant suns.


	5. Ambush

**A/N: **Spent a lovely day fishing. And thanks legolas, I actually typed peeing instead of peeping. That was hilarious. Made my day.  
royal blueKitsune: Fatigue and stress tend to bring out people's worst side. Reading and writing about someone who's always prim and proper would be dull. Hopefully she'll be better with some rest.  
omasuoniwabanshi: Impressive attention to details. Farmers don't do any farming per se in the dead of winter, but there're still the animals to tend to. Some of them also take on artisanship or woodcutting, or at least they did in Europe. Oh, and I didn't find your reviews snarky at all.

* * *

The first rays of daylight weren't upon them yet that Kaoru and Megumi were prepared and ready to go. It was true that they had little belongings—one would be tempted to say almost none at all. They'd washed their faces, done their hairs, and donned their clothes. Then they went out. 

Kamiya Kaoru, after all, wasn't one to be discouraged by a failure or ten.

It was dark outside, but the stars on the sky dome were already beginning to fade. Clouds loomed into view, few but seemingly growing in number before Kaoru's very eyes. A gust of wind howled by, twirling her ponytail, flattening the cloth of her kimono against her chest. The scent of winter filled her nostrils, and a cloud of dust rose to her face. She closed her eyes, and shielded herself with her hands.

The day promised to be wet, Kaoru thought, and windy. Better make haste before the pour caught them. Kyoto wasn't too far away now. They would be, if fate willed it, in its sturdy walls before the end of the day.

They walked into the stables. He was there.

Of course, he _had_ to be there. Kaoru gave a resigned sigh. Did the man ever sleep? He was washing the gray mare's coat, spraying fresh water on it and then brushing it down. The horse submitted valiantly, trembling slightly, sometimes puffing. His hand, she saw, was firm yet soft, almost caressing, and its motion had an almost hypnotic quality to it. Kaoru felt calmed just by looking at it.

She shook herself. "Good morning, sir," she called.

He didn't pause in his task. "Good morning to you, miladies." He stole a glance skyward. "Well, not yet morning. You are up early, miladies."

"We couldn't wait to be on the road again, sir Shinta," pipped Megumi. "We went to call you. Imagine our surprise when we didn't find you in your room. You are such an early riser, sir. I hope you are rested enough." Megumi was lying with such nerve that Kaoru couldn't help but admire her.

He looked sidelong, a very slight curve on his lips. "I am fine, thank you, my lady," he said. "I would be more concerned about you. I wanted to leave you an hour or two of rest, while I tended to the horses."

He seemed to be in fine spirit today, Kaoru thought. It was at such odd with the closed face he bore the day before. It was as if he was another man entirely. His expression, while he was working, was serene, almost… genial. Innocent, a boy sheltered from the violence of this world, a far cry from the cold swordsman who had cut through half a dozen thugs without as much as a blink.

She remembered how they had sat down the worn-out rock last night, how they had admired the stars together, how she had experienced the first moment of sheer peacefulness in weeks. All her worries had been forgotten then. She remembered his musky scent too, subtle and male.

She pondered this other facet of his as she approached the second horse. Which one was the true him? Both? She took a water-filled bucket lying nearby, and poured the fresh liquid all over the horse. The mare snorted, but remained still. She began brushing it. "Help me, Megu," she called quietly. She saw Shinta glance in her direction. "Lovely creatures, aren't they?" she asked. Then she beamed at him. Why not, she thought, it was worth a try.

"Indeed," he acknowledged.

And then he smiled back. It was a soft smile, but a genuine one. Not an ironic smirk, not a half-hearted smile. A _real_ one.

For some reason she felt happy.

When the time came to hit the trail once more, he gestured to her to ride with him again. She accepted without protest, in a mood that could only have been called odd. She wondered briefly why he always offered to ride with her and not with Megumi. Maybe he actually liked her, and was too shy to admit it? She laughed silently at the idea, and discarded it immediately. Whatever he was, shy wasn't it.

* * *

The ambush came around midday. 

They'd been ridding in silence, the lady Kaoru comfortably snuggled against him, and he in a mood that could only have been described as odd. They were making good progress, doubly pressed by their common desire to reach Kyoto as soon as possible, and the threatening weather. The path they traveled upon was seldom used, and they crossed only a few farmers and a single village on their journey south. The wind was picking up, although the air was actually warmer than it had been the day before. Thy sky rumbled, and flashes lighted the dark clouds above from time to time.

They'd reached a woody mountain when Kenshin felt the killing intent. Five, no, six of them. He pulled sharply the reins. The mare reared up, and neighed loudly, startled. Behind him, the other horse almost ran into his. Luckily, they weren't riding at full gallop, and the lady Megumi stopped her mare in time.

He dismounted, entrusting the reins to lady Kaoru. "Wait here," he ordered. He sounded terse, even to his own ears. The prospect of battle had an unwelcome tendency to darken his mood.

Instinctively, his body readied itself for the fighting to come. His muscles relaxed, his attention sharpened. He cleared himself off all unnecessary thoughts. He felt the familiar lucidity in his mind, the enhanced sensorial awareness, and the cold detachment that came with it. He had experienced this transition from human to simple killing machine many times before; he disliked it, yet couldn't deny the almost carnal pleasure that came from it.

He walked forwards a hundred feet on the tree-bordered path. A gust of wind brought the bitter smell of sweat and steel to him. "I know you are here," he called, making sure his voice, while still low, would be carried out to their ears. "Come out."

Nothing happened for a few moments. They would be hesitating, he thought, unsure of themselves for being found out so easily. Good. The psyche, after all, was more than half the outcome of such an encounter. He drew his katana out, the blade hissing loudly against its sheath.

The faint sound of a branch cracking on his left; someone gulping on his right. He waited, immobile. An eagle screeching, overhead. His posture remained relaxed, but he was ready to leap at the first opportunity.

"Withdraw, if you are but cowards," he called again. "Or come out like real men and fight me. I tire of waiting."

They came. All six of them at the same. At least they had discipline, he had to give them that. They charged without any battle cry. Judging by the sound of their steps alone, the first one to reach him would be one on his right, slightly behind him.

It came, just as he predicted. A horizontal thrust. He twisted his body slightly sideways, moved rearwards. The blade missed him by half a foot. Kenshin slashed, turning his body around his left heel. His katana cut neatly the man's neck, severing his head from his shoulders. His face, Kenshin noticed idly, didn't even have the time to register surprise.

Another one, coming in his back. Kenshin jerked a knee on the ground, feeling the hard surface against his skin. The sound of a swipe behind him, passing over his head. His hair felt the wind produced by the sword. Without looking back, Kenshin took his sheath in his left hand, and thrust it backwards to where he guessed his assailant's head to be. It connected, cracking bones with a sickening sound.

Two shadows crept over him. He jumped into the air before their blade made contact with the ground. Something moving caught his eyes. One of the men was running towards where he left the two women.

As he fell, he thrust his blade downwards, burying its tip straight between one of the men's eyes. Blood fountained out. Then, even as his feet landed again, he turned around, slashing his blade.

His opponent, somehow, blocked it with its own katana. A bearded warrior, older than he. No matter. He swung the sheath in his left hand. It caught the man on his left temple. He turned a half circle again, as fast as he could, and threw his sword towards the man running towards the women. It buried itself right between the shoulder blades.

His instinct, rather than his senses, told him of the blade coming in his back. He twisted his body, losing deliberately his balance, and held the sheath behind his back. That avoided him the kiss of the cold steel. He landed on the ground with a quick roll that put him immediately on one knee. His right hand drew out his wakizashi.

The man was on him already. Fast, he thought, as he parried. This one was definitely more accomplished a swordsman, and Kenshin was disadvantaged by his kneeling position. All he could do for now was to defend himself from the furious blows his assailant launched at him. He waited for an opening, patient.

There. It came between a flurry of steel, a slight gap in the man's defense. Kenshin didn't miss it. With a small flick of the wrist he knocked the man's blade slightly aside with the sheath, and he thrust, leaping from the ground. The wakizashi caught the man in his heart. Kenshin watched, emotionless, the warrior's shock as the light faded from his eyes.

That made five. There was a sixth. Kenshin looked around. A young man stood there, his head bald, his sword drawn in front of him, but his face was consumed with fear. His whole body was trembling, as he watched Kenshin, agape. He was sweating profusely. Ah, this one was more cowardly, Kenshin thought. Then again, he had cause; he just witnessed Kenshin taking out five men in less than a minute.

Kenshin took a step forwards. The man took one backwards, then two. "Sou-Sou…," he stammered, his lips quivering. "Where are you, Soujiro-sama?" he screamed. The sky thundered.

A voice, from somewhere amongst the trees. "Oh, sorry, sorry, I was so bored that I dozed off."

Kenshin froze, letting the man run away. So, there was another one. He hadn't sensed that one at all. He looked in the direction the voice came. A man sat on a branch, white kimono and blue hakama. Or rather, a boy. He couldn't be older than Kenshin himself. He jumped on the ground, facing Kenshin. He bore, Kenshin saw, a disarming smile on his innocent face.

"You," Kenshin declared, "are no mere bandit."

The boy's smile didn't fade. "Are you going to face me with just a wakizashi? I won't be as easy as the others, you know."

Kenshin frowned. The boy was giving him a warning? And letting him get his katana back? Too obvious to be a trap. He turned back, carefully, and walked slowly to where his sword was. The boy didn't move from his spot. Kenshin drew his katana from the body it was stuck into.

The man had been close to reaching the two women, he saw. Very close. Lady Kaoru sat on her mount but ten feet away, her own sword unsheathed, lady Megumi slightly behind. The mares must have been frightened by the scent of blood, and they still trembled with unease. Yet that they were under control instead of running wild bespoke volume about the ladies skills. Interesting. He looked straight into lady Kaoru's eyes.

She startled.

"Please remove yourself a little further," he said. "This may take some time." His voice sounded colder than the wintry air. For once he wished that it wasn't so.

She nodded at him, once. Her huge blue eyes were very wide.

The rain began to fall.


	6. A clash of prodigies

**A/N: **Wow, free hits counter for everyone. I have seen FF denigrated here and there, but it's sure some job they've been doing those past weeks. Now, if only they could fix QuickEdit…

reader-kikilala: He introduced himself as Shinta, but he obviously refers to himself as Kenshin in private. Thus I'm using "Kenshin" when using his POV.

* * *

The first droplets fell gently, washing off the smell of blood. Drops trickled off the tip of his sword, diluted red staining the earthen path with audible drips. The wind wailed fiercer, flapping his kimono against his chest. A flash rolled by, lightening the darkened sky.

They stood face to face, gauging each other. No emotion emanated from the smiling boy, at least none that Kenshin could discern. Disturbing. It was the first time he met such an opponent.

"Shall we get started?" The boy called, good-humored. "I want to go back as soon as possible."

Kenshin frowned. "Go back? So you were waiting for us."

The boy covered his mouth with the palm of his hand. "Oops, I said too much." He laughed. "Oh well. It won't matter, if I kill you here."

Kenshin didn't reply. He sheathed his katana. The boy observed him with some surprise. So, Kenshin thought, he wasn't devoid of emotions after all, he just hid them well. He settled into the battou-jutsu stance.

"Oh, very clever," the boy commented. "But I am quite skilled with this technique too, you know." He moved into the battou-jutsu as well. For a moment they remained immobile, their gazes fixed into each other, measuring their respective strength.

It happened in the blink of an eye. They drew at the same time, flying towards and then past each other. Their blades clashed. The wind quieted down.

The boy was fast, and skilled, he had to give him that. They were, Kenshin realized, quite evenly matched. He turned.

The boy was examining his blade. A tiny crack was visible on it. Kenshin took a look at his own blade. It was as smooth and sharp as it had always been. Unsurprising. His was master Suishinshi's greatest chef-d'oeuvre, after all. What was more surprising was that the boy's sword had withstood the impact so well.

"You," Kenshin stated quietly, "are no simple swordsman. And your sword," he continued, glancing at the crack, "is no ordinary one."

"Oh, this? It's my treasured Kiku Ichimonji no Norimune. I can't believe you cracked it."

Definitely no ordinary swordsman. "You can be thankful for it. A lesser blade, and your head would have flown." Kenshin edged forward. "Desist now. I have no wish to kill you."

"It seems I underestimated you somewhat," the boy smiled. "But don't worry about me. I'm all right. I'll just fight you more seriously."

Kenshin screwed up his lids. "Come, then."

He came. One moment the boy was on Kenshin's left, but Kenshin caught only the rain when he thrust. The boy was already on his right. _Fast_.

"I've got you," a voice said in his ear.

Too late to parry. Kenshin writhed his body. The blade grazed his shoulder. He jumped into the air. The boy was on him faster than he would have believed it possible. Kenshin cut horizontally. Their blades collided again. The strength of the shock sent them both reeling.

Fast. Faster than any opponent Kenshin'd faced yet, even his brother. Even his father. "Shukuchi," he murmured. He felt a slight burning in his shoulder.

"Oh, you know the name?" The boy was still smiling, his weapon resting over his shoulder. "You are truly a great samurai." His expression suddenly became more serious, more feral. "But I can do better. To be exact, that was two steps from the real shukuchi. But it's strange." A slight frown appeared on the boy's brow. "I was sure I had you there."

A flicker of unease. Kenshin felt it. The boy was unsettled. Good. It would make him easier to read. "What is your name?" he asked.

"Me? I am Seta Soujiro."

"Seta Soujiro," repeated Kenshin. He readied his katana. "Very well. I shall remember that name." The rain was falling harder. "Let's see what your shukuchi can do."

"One step before the shukuchi," declared Soujiro. He sprung forwards.

It was as if a bullet was charging towards him, Kenshin thought. Something breezed by. Soujiro was already behind him, he realized. A vertical swipe came down behind him. He jumped sideways, and held his sword horizontally. The strength of the blow sent him landing amongst the trees, his feet digging heavily into the drenched soil. He leaned against a trunk, the bark rough through his soaked kimono.

Where would be the attack come from? Left or right? A sound overhead. He leapt forward, just in time avoid a blow coming from above. He looked upwards. Soujiro was bouncing between the ground and trees, sandals slamming loudly on the trunks. An omni-directional attack. Clever. And dangerous.

But time was playing in his favor. He had detected a certain arrogance in the boy's tone. By his experience, arrogance turned to frustration when the opponent showed unexpected resistance. A diagonal cut from the left. Kenshin blocked it, and tried to hit with the sheath in his other hand. But the boy was already gone.

"Not bad," Soujiro's voice echoed around him. A direct thrust coming from the air, on his left. Kenshin slashed, knocking the blade aside. "But how long will you able to resist like this?" A diagonal slash behind him. He avoided this one at the last moment, throwing himself violently on the right. His shoulder rasped against the bark of a large tree, his injured one. He winced. A flash of lightning.

There. It was nothing more than a faint flicker of annoyance, but he was waiting for it. Soujiro was dashing straight at him. He crouched. Soujiro's blade razed over his head, so close that it must have shaved off some hairs. He caught Soujiro's surprise. _Now. _He sprang forwards, his blade sweeping upwards.

It drew blood.

Soujiro bounced back fifty feet. He was, Kenshin saw, clutching his left shoulder. Interesting. The blow had been aimed at Soujiro's throat and chin. Kenshin had meant it to be a killing blow, one he didn't think could be dodged, yet somehow the boy had managed to avoid a fatal injury by swerving at the last second.

Despite the distance separating them, Kenshin could still hear Soujiro labored breaths. He felt the boy's confusion and anger flow forth, unrestrained now. He was becoming readable. And so he was, Kenshin thought, as good as dead.

"It seems I still underestimated you," mumbled Soujiro. Water streamed down his face. "I will fight with all my strength now." He took the battou-jutsu stance.

Kenshin relaxed his posture. "One question before that," he called. "Were you here to wait for me?"

"You?" Fascinating, how the boy's expression could switch from deadly to angelical seemingly at will. "Hmm, who are you?"

Kenshin's mood darkened. "So, it was for the lady Kamiya Kaoru."

Soujiro fell back into the battou-jutsu stance once again. "You said one question. You will have to defeat me, if you want more answers."

"Then I will make sure you can still speak after this." Kenshin sheathed his weapon. The rain showered through his clothes, soaking his skin. "Come."

The boy vanished. It was so fast his eyes couldn't see him anymore. Yet Kenshin was prepared for that, and he had an idea of what was to come. A straight rush, combined with the speed of the battou-jutsu. And, if even he couldn't see him anymore, he could still see and hear the water splashing from his steps on the ground. A chance, those fifty feet. Kenshin rushed forward.

The thunder boomed. Swords clashed.

The oncoming assault's power was incredible, but people didn't call him Battousai for nothing. He took the blunt of the onslaught with his blade, but still he was pushed backwards. He grounded his left foot, and swung the sheath at Soujiro. The blow sent the boy sprawling on the ground.

He lifted his katana overhead. Soujiro looked up at him. There was, Kenshin saw, consternation on the boy's face now. Soujiro raised his sword, trying to protect himself. Kenshin slashed downwards.

A broken blade spun off. It buried itself into the soil.

* * *

They'd run off, of course. The opportunity had presented itself, when she saw the two opponents sink deeper amongst the trees. It was, she thought, a gift from the heaven. She wasn't going to let it slip by.

Now they were galloping under the downpour, their horses' hooves' beat replaced by the sound of sprayed water. The wind wheezed by, spurting countless drops into her eyes, gluing her drenched kimono against her wet skin. She must have been, Kaoru decided, an indecent sight to behold right now.

But decency be damned. Oh, how she longed to come upon a refuge that would shelter her from this godforsaken rain. She would have traded all her riches for a dry roof over her head right now. How could the weather be so unsympathetic to her plight? It was a mystery indeed.

Three hours. In three hours they would be in the imperial city. Three small hours. Three long hours, to spend in the storm. Couldn't it have waited for her to arrive before opening the floodgates? Of course not. It seemed it was determined to be contrary. How unattractive.

So she rode. And all she could see in her mind was the gleam of his eyes.

Those topaz irises had sent shivers down her spine. And those shivers hadn't been ones of pleasure. Oh no. Amber, like a wolf's eyes. Ruthless, and cruel. There was no trace of the boy who liked stars and horses. For the first time in her life she'd felt the urge to escape as far as she could. And she had done so.

But maybe that was an ungraceful thing to do? The more she thought about it, the more she regretted her hasty decision. Shinta may have been a clingy, burdensome, rude and unpleasant companion, he had nevertheless saved them twice now. Was she so ungrateful, to reward his protection by running from him? Of course not. This was not how she had been taught, not how she had been bred. What would her mother have said of her behavior? She would have gently but firmly scolded Kaoru, made sure that Kaoru understood it wasn't the proper thing to do.

Kaoru decreased her mare's pace. Her mind told her to flee as fast as possible. Her body screamed at her to find shelter as soon as possible.

She reined her horse in.

Megumi stopped her mount a hundred feet farther. She trotted back, glancing at Kaoru, puzzled.

"Let's go back," said Kaoru.

"My lady, I thought you wanted to run from him?"

"Run?" Kaoru looked at her maid, her eyebrows raised. "Kamiya Kaoru runs from no one. I just wanted to get rid of a burden."

Her maid arched her eyebrows as well. "And is it not the perfect opportunity to do so now, my lady?"

"I changed my mind," she declared, haughtily.

"But, my lady, it's raining so hard. We should hurry to—"

"We are already soaked through," Kaoru remarked. She raised her hand as her maid was about to voice another objection. "I've made up my mind, Megumi."

Her maid stared at her, then nodded. "Very well, my lady."

And so it came that they went back whence they came. For half an hour they rode at a slow canter. Kaoru thought that they might meet him on the way. After all, didn't he say that he was going to Kyoto too? He would have continued by foot when he realized that they weren't there anymore. Kaoru couldn't picture his expression at discovering their desertion. Would he be angry? Disappointed? Would he still have this expressionless mask of his? Would he care at all?

Megumi gave voice to her fears. "He might not come at all," her maid said soberly.

"What are you saying, Megumi?" Kaoru remained impassible in appearance, even if her heart jolted in her chest. "He may be an ill-mannered oaf, he is invincible sword in hand. We have seen proof of that."

"But his opponent didn't seem to be an ordinary one," Megumi remarked. "He himself seemed uncertain."

"He won't lose," she announced. That quieted her maid.

For ten minutes they rode in silence. Apprehension rose in Kaoru's chest. Silly girl, she thought. Why should she be worried? But she couldn't shake it off. He'd seemed so lethal that she couldn't imagine him ever being defeated. Yet who knew? The world was vast, and there were plenty of skilled swordsmen. What if the rain made his steps uncertain? He could have slipped off at a crucial moment. What if his opponent landed a lucky blow? Those happened, from time to time. A master could be beaten by an amateur this way, it wasn't unheard of. What if….

He emerged from the trees. Red hair dulled dark, ample clothes embracing his small frame. His irises were a bright lavender.

Her heart ran wild. Why did he have to take so long? Stupid boy, to have her so worried. He must have done it on purpose. Inexcusable. Unforgivable.

He halted, rivulets streaming down his visage. They stared at each other in a silence only disrupted by the rain's sizzle. Kaoru was aware of the sight she must have presented, kimono tightly sticking to her skin, outlining her silhouette, exposing the curve of her breasts. And the cloth must have been as good as transparent, judging by his. Yet, oddly, with this self-consciousness came no sense of shame.

"You took long enough," she said finally, her tone condescending.

For the second time that day, a smile flowered on his face.

* * *

**Notes:** I decided against giving Soujiro a dramatic past, so let's pretend he's just a stealthy guy. Also, their fight is molded on the original story, since I couldn't think of an original scenario. I know that Kenshin won more easily than in the manga/anime, but it's implied than the younger and ruthless Kenshin is stronger than the Ruroni, so…. (And yeah, Kenshin's been using his sheath quite a lot.) 


	7. A secluded farmhouse

**A/N: **This story holds no pretension of adhering to historical or medical accuracy, geographical and physical limitations, or plain common sense. And thanks for all the feedback. Also, be warned that this chapter has some mild lime in it.

Wyldcat: As a certain best-seller author is fond of saying, RAFO. (Read And Find Out.)

Animelover: I'm still writing this on the fly, so you'll have to excuse any rough edge. (I know that I said that I would give it more thoughts, but…. Ok, I lied. Sue me.)

* * *

In truth, he didn't really know why he even decided to follow her in her escapade in the first place. Mayhap because he had a very good idea of what or who she was running from. He'd found it ironic, and faintly amusing then, that they should chance upon one another that night of all night. Fate, he learned long ago, was a mischievous creature. Mayhap, too, he hadn't been able to bear another woman's companionship any longer. Too many unwelcome memories there, and regrets. 

She had been a convenient diversion. Nothing more.

Still, he would be dishonest with himself if he denied the prickle of disappointment he felt when he discovered them gone. He couldn't have said that he was particularly surprised. Lady Kaoru, he decided, was constant, and persistent, if nothing else.

But it didn't matter. He would seek her again in Kyoto. He simply couldn't leave her alone anymore, after hearing Soujiro's explanations. Lady Kaoru, it was obvious now, would stand in grave perils in the imperial city.

He tilted his face towards the ashen sky, tasted the cool pour trickling down his skin, down his neck. He felt strangely alive.

He began walking, threading among the trees, to avoid being completely drenched. He wasn't, despite his many flaws, a masochist. He would, he estimated, reach Kyoto by nightfall if he made haste. One could only hope that the lady Kaoru didn't get herself into more troubles till then. It wasn't outside the realm of possibilities, he mused. She was such an unpredictable woman.

It was some time after that he heard the hooves' beat coming from the opposite direction. He went to see. He didn't entirely know why he did, just that he felt compelled to do so.

He saw her. Her wet hairs wild in the rain, her sodden clothes clinging to her lithe body. And because he was a swordsman, and swordsmen were trained to notice such things, he saw the glimmer of relief run through her expression. He halted. They stared at each other.

"You took long enough," she said. It was the usual lady-to-servant tone she seemed to enjoy using when talking to him.

He felt happy, for some reason. And, looking at her almost transparent kimono revealing her slim yet sensual body, he felt a warmth of another kind. That of desire.

He smiled.

"Samurai-san!" a voice called suddenly. "Samurai-san!"

It was Soujiro's voice, he realized. Unexpected. He should have killed the boy, he thought. It wasn't like him to leave an enemy alive. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. It would have been pity to waste such talent. And it was as if a superior power had stayed his hand back then. One look at Soujiro's angelic smile, and all killing instincts had evaporated.

"Isn't that the man you just faced, Sir Shinta?" asked Megumi, clearly puzzled.

"Indeed," he acknowledged.

"Samurai-san!" the boy called again, waving. He was, Kenshin saw, leading two horses by the lead.

"No need to be so tense, samurai-san," the boy said, approaching, his usual smile plastered on his face.

Kenshin's hand flew to the hilt of his katana. "Do not try my patience."

"Don't be hasty, samurai san. I will make myself useful, I swear. Here, see, I brought us two horses."

Kenshin cocked an eyebrow. The boy's good humor was communicative. "Us?"

"Well," laughed Soujiro, "I can't really get back, now that you defeated me. Besides, you skills are really impressive! I hope you will teach them to me."

"Not a chance in hell." Kenshin walked to the boy's side, and whispered into his ear: "About what you told me. Not a word to the ladies."

Soujiro nodded. "Does that mean that I can come along?"

"I don't know how I could prevent you from doing so," sighed Kenshin, "short of killing you."

"Haha, you are so cold, samurai-san."

"Wait," the lady Kaoru interrupted. Kenshin allowed himself a private smirk. He knew what she was going to say even before she articulated it. "Who has decided that he can come with us?"

"Please don't be so cruel, my lady. I am sure you would want to be somewhere where you could dry yourself up and wait the storm out, right?" Soujiro grinned. "I just happen to know the place."

The lady snorted.

* * *

It was a small deserted farm, sitting among a thawing field that still bore wounds of ice. The thunderstorm raged outside, splattering loudly on the thatched roof. A fire frolicked in the hearth, and a warm light danced over the wooden walls. Kaoru could smell the faint scent of burned cedar; it made her dizzy. 

The house harbored signs of recent occupation. The place was clean and tidy, and unsoiled food could still be found in the small but neat kitchen. They found clothes of all genres too, lying around, unkempt. Unfortunately, those were all men's garments. At least, Kaoru thought, nibbling on a hastily prepared tempura, they were dry. It was all she could ask for. Kneeling before the iron kettle suspended over the charcoal fire, a too large kimono floating around her, she felt warm and fuzzy, almost languorous.

"Keep still," Megumi was saying. She was treating the always-smiling samurai—his name was Soujiro, or so she gathered. He was, Kaoru could clearly see, bleeding quite profusely from the deep gash in his left shoulder. She winced, hurting for the boy, even if he showed no sign of pain at all.

She stole a glance at Shinta. He was resting against the wall, one knee bent before him, his sword nestled on his shoulder. He was, she realized, slowly dozing off. How very rude. Wasn't he aware that it wasn't something one did in the presence of a lady of her quality? It confirmed her assertion of him. As if she needed confirmation.

"Ouch, ouch," Soujiro cried. "That hurt! Don't be so hard on me, fox lady."

"Fox lady?" Megumi squeezed him harder. He yowled. "Watch your tongue, boy," her maid said, flinging her hair.

"All right, all right, fo… I mean dear lady. Just be quick, please. If I lose any more blood I might pass out." He eyed her from bottom to top. "If I do, maybe you could cradle me on those thighs of yours. They look really soft."

Megumi pressed his wound. Blood squirted out. He collapsed… right on her thighs.

"That was really cruel," he moaned. "Hmm, I was right after all," he murmured dreamily. "They are so soft."

"Boy you…."

Kaoru giggled. Beside her, Shinta stirred. She looked at him. "Are you finished napping, sir?" she asked with as much hauteur as she could muster. It wasn't much, in truth. She was too tired and too cozy to really give it a good try.

He regarded her in silence, shadows dancing over his visage. The wind waggled against the wooden door. He looked oddly quiet and peaceful right now. His eyes, Kaoru thought, had all the seeming of a demon's that was dreaming. She took another bowl of tempura, and walked over to him.

"Here," she said, kneeling by him. He took the bowl. "I made it myself," she declared proudly.

He tasted it. He smirked. "You aren't used to preparing food, I take it."

How she wished she could wipe off that obnoxious smirk off his face. Think of a witty reply, Kaoru. Witty reply. "Why did you say that?" Witty indeed. Way to go, Kaoru.

"Nothing," Shinta replied, shaking his head. He actually chuckled. "I didn't mean to offend you, my lady." He took another bite. "This is actually edible," he judged.

Edib…. Had she just been insulted? That demanded reparations. The nerve of him, to…. Something caught her eyes.

"You are injured, sir," she exclaimed softly. Her hand brushed over his right shoulder. It drew traces of blood. "Let me attend to your wound." She was feeling snug and warm. No, more than warm. The hearth's heat must be getting at her, she thought.

"There is no need," he said. He looked casually at his shoulder. "A small scratch. It will heal in no time."

"I insist." She gripped his gi, sliding it off his shoulder. "Even if it's a small wound, it might still get infected. You never know. Besides," she said, breathing into his ear, "You saw me naked in the hot springs. It is time to even things out somewhat." She didn't know why she was teasing him. She was feeling very lightheaded.

The dim light skulked over his now bared skin, drawing wild patterns. He might be slim, but his muscles were firm and sculpted, she noted with satisfaction. She trailed a finger over his hard pectoral, grazing a nipple. She felt him tense, draw in a sharp breath. Good. So he wasn't made of stone after all, under his mask of ice. His skin was smooth and cool under her touch. Her finger traveled over to his wound, a horizontal cut of about four inch long. She wiped off scarlet drops of it.

She put her finger in her mouth. His blood, she mused, tasted like bitter copper. She giggled.

"Are you well, my lady?" he asked, worry plain in those fascinating eyes. They were _so_ violet.

"I am perfectly fine, thank you," she hummed. It sounded like a purr to her ears. She batted shyly her eyelashes. She was perfectly fine. She'd never felt as fine as she did right now. Her body burned, feverish.

She took a bowl of water lying nearby, and came back to his sides. She washed the blood off his wound, making sure her fingers would linger over him now and then, as if unconsciously, tantalizing him as best she could. He was so very near. His subtle scent invaded her senses. His warm breath swept over her neck, pricking her skin. Her heart raced hard with excitement against her chest. Her mind was afire. Each time their skin touched, a tingling sensation sparkled through her body. His breathing, she noticed, was becoming increasingly hard and uneven.

She heard a soft moan. It was her own.

"Are you sure all is well, my lady?"

She turned her head, ready to reassure him that she absolutely fine. Her lips grazed against his. The brief contact sent shivers down her spine. She jerked her head back slightly. Their noses were almost touching. His eyes, she realized, were angry. Faintly, she became conscious that she was sweating.

He gripped her wrist, his finger clawing into her flesh. "Do not," he uttered threateningly, "start something you do not intend to finish."

She tilted her chin, smiled lazily. Her vision was starting to waver. Strange. "I always finish what I start," she cooed. "A personal rule of mine."

A thunder rolled by. A sudden gust of wind battered the wooden door. The room spun around her.

"My lady," he called, as if from a great distance. "My lady!" The room toppled over.

His voice was the last thing she remembered, before everything sank into the dark.

* * *

**Notes: **I borrowed a line from Poe's famous poem "The Raven": …_and his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,…_

I actually wrote three versions of this chapter. The original was lime-free, but I got inspired by some fics I'm reading, and wrote an M-ish one. I was going to post it and bump up the rating, but decided against it at the last moment, so I wrote this one instead.


	8. Seasons

"She must have caught a cold," Shinta said

"I am not sure," Megumi replied.

She wiped sweat off her mistress' brow with a wet cloth. They'd laid lady Kaoru on an old futon. The lady's reddened face was set into a contorted grimace and felt feverish to the touch. Her arms trembled from time to time under the soaked blanket. Megumi's heart ached for her mistress.

"The rain was icy," Soujiro said. "It wouldn't be surprising to catch a cold after being exposed to it for so long."

"Too early for that," Megumi explained. "It would have taken days for the fever to manifest itself. No." She looked around. "Did la…. Did Kaoru eat or drink anything untoward?" Sweat was pouring out of lady's Kaoru's pores. Megumi sponged her lady's skin again.

"She was just having a bowl of tempura," Kenshin said.

"Tempura?" Megumi looked up in surprise.

"She prepared it herself." Kenshin rose. He walked to a plain-looking bowl and took it back. "Here," he said, handing the bowl to her.

She examined it. The lady had almost eaten the dish entirely. She could see pieces of fried fish and cabbage in it, dipping in a sauce of indistinct color. Figured. It was surprising her mistress would prepare any food at all. Bits of carrots and pumpkins. A half-eaten mushroom.

"Where did she get all the food?" Megumi asked.

"In the kitchen, I suppose," Shinta said.

"The kitchen, yes," Soujiro said. He was still smiling. Didn't he realize that the situation was serious? "There was still plenty of food left two days when I came here two days ago, I remember. It's all very healthy, I can guarantee that, as is the water. Straight from the well. If you want, there's still some delicious beef left in the kitchen and we could—"

"Brat, go fetch some fresh water," she snapped. Soujiro rose to do as she told without protest.

A spasm convulsed through the lady's frail body. Megumi caressed the lady's cheek, trying to calm her, although she doubted the lady would even be aware of her presence in her state. Megumi's heart thumped in her chest, the panic beginning to seize her. Keep calm, she told herself. She needed to keep her head level in such a situation.

"Here," Shinta said, kneeling besides her. He handed her another bowl. "She gave this one to me."

She examined its content. It was hardly touched, and had the same foods in it as the other one. Carrot, fish, mushroom…. Wait. Something about the form of the mushrooms nagged at her mind. Its form wasn't common. A red flat cap scattered with white flecks. She was sure she'd never eaten the like before.

"Sir Shinta," she asked, "did you notice anything out of the ordinary about la… Kaoru before she passed out?"

"I… I am not sure," Shinta said, without looking at her. "Maybe." Was he blushing? She observed him closely. He wouldn't meet her eyes. Curious. "She was acting as if she…."

"As if she?" Megumi pressed him.

"As if…. As if she was very drunk." He considered. "Or highly aroused."

The truth dawned on her. He was definitely blushing, she realized. It would have been laughable if not for the gravity of the moment.

"Fly agaric," she exclaimed. A strong gust of wind broke through the wooden door, and sent the hearth's fire fluttering.

"Oh, my, my," said Soujiro, coming back with a bucket filled with fresh water. "Sakano was very fond of them, I recall. I thought he had them safely tucked into his cache…."

"Who is Sakano," Shinta snarled, "and what is a fly agaric?"

"Sakano is one of the men you killed earlier," Soujiro said pleasantly. "This is where he lived. And a fly agaric is a mushroom that makes you happy."

"It's a hallucinogenic mushroom," she corrected.

"Is it very dangerous?" he asked her, his cheek somewhat red but his gaze very intense.

She looked at the bowl still in her hand. Judging by the amount of mushroom…. "It might be fatal," said.

Shinta sprang to his feet. "I will go get a doctor."

"It may be too late then," she said pressingly. He stopped, already halfway to the door. "I have some medical training," she revealed. She looked down at her mistress, wiping the lady's brow. "I need a pen and a sheet of paper," she said, turning to Soujiro.

Soujiro smiled at her. "Oh?" He walked to a drawer chest nearby, and fished out what she asked. "Here you go," he said, handing them to her without hurry.

She snatched them. She wrote down what she thought lady Kaoru needed, and more, just to be certain.

"Please, sir Shinta," she pleaded. "I need these as fast as possible. I will stay at Kaoru's side and tend to her in the meantime."

He didn't hesitate. "I will ride to Kyoto if need be," he declared firmly.

"It will be nightfall by then, samurai-san" Soujiro said, rubbing his neck. "I know a village close by where we can get what the fox lady needs."

Shinta nodded, once. "Let's go," he said. And with that he set off into the stormy afternoon once again. The wind rushed into the farmhouse when he flung the thatched door open. It extinguished the fire.

Megumi lighted the fire again, all the while keeping an attentive eye on lady's Kaoru's condition. There was very little she could do at the moment. She had never believed in gods and spirits before, but she prayed to all of them that Shinta would make it in time.

* * *

Warm breeze, mellow soil against her naked sole. Sun in the blue sky. Birds zigzagging above her head. Singing, joy. Tall mountains, faraway. Sound of water flowing. 

Trees, tall, slim. Branches not straight, pale pink. Sweet smell, mysterious. Snow of petals, tickling her face. Tickling her neck. Covering her vision, then gone. Pretty.

"Pretty," she said.

"Yes, they are beautiful, aren't they?"

She turned. Woman, kimono with same petals on it. Face shaped like heart. Pretty hair, her favorite color. Black. Smelled good. Mother. Beautiful.

"Pretty," she said. She pointed a finger at mother. "Mother beautiful. Mother beautfifulest."

Laughter, like birds singing. Mother kneeling in front of her. Mother's soft hand on her head. Messing her hairs. She felt happy.

"You are beautiful too, Kaoru," mother said. Voice better than music. "The most beautiful girl on earth."

"True?" she asked.

Mother's kiss on her cheek. Soft. She liked mother's kiss. She hugged mother.

"You are the most beautiful girl on earth," mother said again. "And you will grow into a beautiful woman."

"Beautiful like mother?"

Mother laughed. "More beautiful than me, Kaoru."

She giggled. "Kaoru can't. Mother most beautifulest."

Mother's hand rubbing her head. "Kaoru will be more beautifulest than mother, I promise."

She didn't understand. But she nodded. Mother said so. It must be true.

Mother pointed to trees. "You see those trees, Kaoru?"

"Kaoru see trees," she said. She loved mother's hand on her head. "Pretty."

"Those are called sakura trees, Kaoru. It blossom each spring."

"Sakura," she said. Word sounded funny.

"Yes, Kaoru, sakura. Aren't they the most lovely of trees?"

She understood. She smiled. "Beautifulest of trees," she said. "Like mother most beautifulest of mothers."

Mother kissed her on her brow. "Yes, Kaoru," mother said. "Beautiful, but fragile. Beauty is but a passing dream, Kaoru." Mother's voice is sad. She didn't like mother sad. "What is the sakura, when all its petals are fallen? A tree that has lost its allure, shadowed by the slender willow tree and the proud cedar. Beauty is fleeting, just as life is fleeing. Do you understand, Kaoru?"

She didn't understand. But she liked mother happy. She nodded to make mother happy.

Mother smiled. "That's good, Kaoru." Mother pointed at the mountains. "Look at those mountains, Kaoru. Look at their rough slopes and untamed peaks. Winter or summer they will always stand, unflinching. This is true majesty."

"Mother is like mountain," she guessed. "Mother always beautiful."

Mother ruffled her head again. "No, dear child. Mother will grow old and die, one day. But remember this, Kaoru. My love for you is like the mountains. It will always stay with you no matter what may happen. It is the only thing that matters, in the end."

_Something wet, passing on her brow, soothing._

"_Please hang in there a little longer, lady Kaoru."_

The sun was hot, the sky was blue. Always hot, those days. So she bathed in pool, or lay in grass. She couldn't look at the sun. Don't look at the sun, father said. Her skin sweating, sticky. It itched. She didn't want the yukata. Too hot. But she couldn't take it off. Mother said don't take the yukata off. She didn't.

The grass was tickling her. The insects singing above her. Funny things. Mother said they are called cicadas. She found the name funny. She tried to catch them. More than one time. She didn't catch any. Father caught one for her. But she let it go away. It wasn't funny. She cried. But mother said don't cry. Ladies didn't cry in public, she said.

She lay under trees. More shadows. It was less hot in shadow. She looked at the trees. No more pink petals on soil. No more pink petals on her hair. Sakuras are dead.

"Lady Kaoru. Lady Kaoru, where are you?"

She hid behind trees. It was Keiko. Keiko was with her since two years. That was two birthdays, mother said. Helped her with clothes, take baths, braid her hair, and other things. Keiko was young. Younger than mother. But not younger than Kaoru. People looked funny at Keiko. Father, Masaki the cook. She saw Masaki the cook grab Keiko's butt one time. Funny, no one tried to grab Kaoru's butt.

"Lady Kaoru? Lady Kaoru, I know you are here. Your parents are waiting for you, lady Kaoru. Where is the damned child."

She didn't move, didn't make sound. She was small. Keiko wouldn't find her. She was smart. Smarter than Keiko. Mother always said Kaoru is smart. She didn't like Keiko. Keiko wasn't beautiful like mother. Keiko was ugly. She didn't like Keiko's smell, and Keiko's laugh. She made troubles for Keiko.

That night, she went in garden. Mother said she can't go outside the night, but she liked doing it too much. And in the garden she heard someone, so she hid in bushes. She saw father with Keiko. She saw father kiss Keiko on the mouth. He did that with mother too, but less often than before. She wanted Keiko gone.

_Someone lifting her head._

"_Drink, Kaoru, drink."_

_Something wet on her lips. Into her mouth._

"_Will she make it?"_

"_We can only wait now. You did all you could, Sir Shinta."_

The wind was chilly. There were plenty of clouds in the sky. All gray. Keiko was gone. Mother and father had a fight. They told her to go away, but they were screaming very loud, so she heard. They used very bad words. Mother was angry. Father was angry that mother was angry. Kaoru was very scared. After that she didn't see Keiko again.

There were plenty of yellow leaves on the ground. So many of them. All yellow and brown. They were green before. She could fall on them. It didn't hurt, and it was funny. But mother said not to do that. It was not like a lady, mother said.

The rain was falling. She liked the rain, it made funny sounds, and it made her all wet. She had to change clothes after that. She didn't mind. But mother said not to do that. Ladies didn't get all wet. So she stopped doing that. She wanted mother happy, and she didn't want to hear mother scream again. A butterfly came on her head. She wanted it to stay, so she didn't move.

"Lady Kaoru, Lady Kaoru!"

That was Megumi. Megumi was older than her, but younger than Keiko. She heard Megumi was twelve years old. So Megumi was five years older than her.

"I'm here, Megumi," she said. She liked Megumi. Megumi was fun, and would play with her. They did bad things together, things ladies didn't do. But Megumi never told father or mother about that

"Lady Kaoru, your mother is looking for you." Megumi said. Megumi talked like a grown-up person. She wished she could talk like Megumi.

"I don't want to go," she said. "I don't want to meet the scary person."

"Lady Kaoru, Lord Himura is your mother's childhood friend. His younger son is with him. They say you two could get married when you grow up." Megumi said. Why was Megumi telling her that? She knew it already.

"I don't want to go," she said again. "And I don't want to get married."

"Lady Kaoru, you must absolutely go," Megumi said. "It would be a grave insult if you didn't. You don't want to embarrass your mother, don't you, my lady?" There she went again, talking like a grown-up person.

Megumi was right, and she hated it when Megumi was right and she wasn't. "I won't go," she repeated.

But Megumi dragged her inside anyway. She didn't fight too hard.

"_The fever is coming down."_

"_That's a good thing, isn't it?"_

"_Yes, but it's still too to be definitely sure that…."_

It was winter. She knew it was winter, because it was cold. It snowed almost every day. Last night it hailed very hard. She didn't like winter. She hated the cold, the ice. She preferred spring, when she would see sakura petals raining down again.

"Isn't Ise a lovely town, Kaoru?" her mother asked, walking beside her, leading her by the hand. Plenty of guards walked in front and behind.

She looked around. "I like our town more," she said. It was true. She heard Megumi giggle behind her.

Her mother laughed. She had lovely eyes when she laughed. "Yes, dear child. It will always be closest to your heart, I suspect. But I have fond memories of Ise, and they come to me each time I come here. We should come to Ise more often, Kaoru. Wouldn't you like that?"

She nodded. They could come to Ise each week, if it made mother happy. Mother not very happy those days.

A scream. She heard a body fall in front of them. Her mother's hand tightened on hers. It was something bad, she thought. Another body slumping. She saw blood. Plenty of blood. Blood was pretty, but it smelled bad.

The guards just in front of them fell, cut in half. Blood sprayed on her face, on her hands, on her kimono. Blood, everywhere. She felt dizzy.

She saw a man come at them. He walked slow. Red hair, a ponytail. Scary eyes, yellow. She couldn't move.

Her mother pulled on her hand. "Run, Kaoru, run!"

They ran. And ran. But all of a sudden her mother wasn't running anymore. She turned back. There was a katana blade coming out of her mother's chest. She froze. Something was horribly wrong. Her mother's hand went limp, let go of hers.

"Run, Kaoru," mother said, weakly. "Run…." There was blood coming out of mother's mouth. So much blood.

"Mother," she called. Why wasn't mother running anymore? "Mother? Did Kaoru do something bad? Mother? Don't leave me, mother."

Another hand gripped hers. "Run, my lady," Megumi was screaming. Yellow eyes bore into hers. The man opened his mouth. He had a very long tongue, like a snake. His face was transforming. It wasn't a man anymore, but a demon. His teeth grew longer and longer, sharper and sharper. His hands had plenty of claws. She couldn't move her body. A red blade fell—

She woke up screaming.

"My lady!" someone called urgently. She felt a pair of cool hands hastening to support her, soothing her. It was Megumi, she realized. Yes, she could always depend on Megumi. Then she saw him.

He was there. _He was there._

Sitting against the wall, one knee bent in front of him. Red hair, ponytail, a sword resting in his arms, gazing straight at her. She stared, transfixed. She couldn't move anymore; her whole body was paralyzed with shock and fear.

"Murderer," she whispered.


	9. Of dreams

**A/N: **short chapter, but I felt the scene should stand by itself. I realize that I hyped expectations with the last chapter, but people, this is romance, not melodrama….

* * *

The word lingered in the air long after she voiced it. Murderer. 

He gazed at her, pale, and very wide-eyed. What was he going to do? Deny? Finish what he couldn't do ten years ago, and silence her forever? She couldn't think straight. Maybe she should flee. Maybe. She didn't care anymore. Her mother, the tip of the blade protruding from her chest. Her mother's face, frozen in horror. Her mother's scent, soiled by the stench of blood….

Strength left her body. She slumped down.

"Kaoru," Megumi said. "Don't exert yourself. You are not yet recovered."

How could her maid be so calm? Didn't she realize that a cold-blooded killer sat in the same room as them? Where was her katana?

With what shred of energy she still possessed she clutched Megumi's sleeve. "He killed mother," she said. "He killed her. Don't you see—"

Her maid hushed her. "You shouldn't be so agitated," Megumi said, wiping her brow. "You need to rest."

Kaoru gripped her maid's arm. "You were there, Megumi. Why don't you recognize him?"

"What are you talking about, Kaoru?"

Kaoru tried to move, but the effort was beyond her. She could just turn her head. What was he doing? He should be cutting her in half already. No, he was still where he was earlier. He seemed surprised, almost shocked. That she recognized him?

"Megumi," she whispered, "It's _him. _Don't you remember? He killed mother, he killed…." A sob interrupted her. Her own. Tears were flowing down her cheek, she noticed suddenly. Why? Why? She had to be strong. She didn't want to weep, to be weak. She didn't want to relive the pain again. Her katana, she needed it. Where was it? She couldn't see it anywhere.

He approached. Her heart jolted. Flee, she told herself. Flee! She tried to move, and found that she couldn't move. Her strength had deserted her. She cursed the heavens for being born a woman. How often had she wished to be a man, so that she could stand for herself. So that she could bestow justice herself, avenge her mother. This frustration, this feeling of being utterly powerless. She'd experienced them before. Oh yes, she had.

His shadow fell on her. She gritted her teeth.

She saw him kneel beside her. She felt his hand on her shoulder. She jerked back. She snarled. "Don't touch me. Don't ever lay your filthy hands on me."

His hand recoiled, suspended in the air for a moment. Then it fell back to his side. He looked dismayed, she saw. Almost hurt. She wondered why.

"Why did you kill mother?" she cried. "Why?"

He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but no sound came forth.

"Get a hold of yourself, Kaoru," Megumi said. "It was Hiko of Ise who killed your mother. Sir Shinta couldn't have been older than ten at time."

Kaoru sat up again with difficulty. She looked at Megumi, uncomprehending. "How, how…."

"It was a nightmare, my l… Kaoru. You ate some poisonous mushrooms, and fell sick. Come now, you must rest. You aren't fully recovered yet."

Kaoru gripped her maid's kimono with both her hands, frantic. "Megumi, how can you be so calm? It was him! You were there with me, you must have seen. Why don't you recognize him? He's going to kill all of us, and—"

Megumi slapped her face. Kaoru stared, unbelieving.

"Get a grip, Kaoru," Megumi said. Her face, Kaoru noted, was set in a firm and severe expression. She didn't remember ever seeing Megumi looking at her in such a manner. "Neither of us was there when your mother died," Megumi chided "It was all a bad dream."

"Samurai-san isn't a bad person," a new voice said. A young man, smiling. "See, he didn't kill me. He can't be bad, right?" Who was he?

She stared at the red-haired samurai. Shinta, Megumi had called him. He looked at her, unwavering. He looked calm yet somehow pained. It was as if he was chagrined by what she had said. The image of his amber eyes glowing at her faded in her mind. His irises were so violet, so deep. His face so innocent. His gaze was almost unbearable.

"Why," she cried. She punched his chest. He didn't budge the slightest, letting her. "Why." Old memories, bringing so much grief. Grief, and memories of grief past. So much pain, emotions she'd locked deep in her all those years, now coming forth unbidden. She felt submerged. "Why, why…."

A pair of strong arms encircled her shoulders, pulling her against his chest. "Shh," he murmured, his voice so gentle, so soothing. "Cry, it will make you better. It's all right to cry."

Tears poured unrestrained. She sobbed uncontrollably in his embrace. Dimly, she felt him stroking her hair. "It's all right," he whispered. "It's all right. Let yourself grieve all you want."

For a long time she cried, lost to the world around her. There was only her sorrow. Her head lay buried in his chest. His hand soothed her.

Then she fell asleep. Faintly she felt hands putting her back into warm blankets.

She dreamed again, of him. They lay in lush green field, sakura petals raining down on them, palest pink. His arms hugged her waist, and her head rested in the crook of his neck. Shefelt aserenity and plenitude she'd never experienced before. She wished she could stay like this forever.

When she awoke, he was gone.


	10. The morning after

**A/N:** Where's the romance, you ask? Well, here are some longish inner monologues that are de rigueur in any contemporary romance.

* * *

It must have been morning, for the light filtered brightly through the windows, the sun shining merrily in a turquoise sky. Birds twirped, their airy songs reaching her ears. The hearth's fire had died down, Kaoru saw, leaving only cold charcoal ashes in its wake. All was quiet. 

An even breathing caught her attention. She turned her head. Megumi slept at her bedside, on the naked wooden floor. She looked extenuated, her hair spilled around her, her head resting on a makeshift pillow. Her maid still wore all her clothes. She must have looked after her mistress and patient all night long, Kaoru thought with a pang of guilt.

It wasn't the first time either. After her mother's death, Kaoru had had nightmares each time she went to sleep. Sometimes she would dream her mother killed before her very eyes, and would wake weeping. Sometimes she would see her mother simply walking away from her, and she would run after her, run and run and run, and never catch up; she would awake calling her mother's name. Each and every night the nightmares would come, till Kaoru dared sleep no more. She would lie in her futon, cold blankets wrapped around her, and she would try what she could to stay awake, fighting ever harder against fatigues and her treacherous lids. It was a lost battle, of course, and she always succumbed, yet still she fought the following day, and again and again.

She didn't say any word about it to anyone, but Megumi noticed. Megumi noticed a lot of things about her. Maybe it was her tired eyes, where black bags must surely have been visible. Maybe it was her lack of energy, or her irascible mood. That evening her maid came to her bedside, and sang for her. They were songs that told of grief and loss, she remembered well. They were sad, and her chest tightened hearing them, recalling all too vividly her own grief. Yet those song also carried with them the hope of a brighter tomorrow. And, after a long time, Kaoru slowly drifted to sleep, cradled in Megumi's soft voice. It was the first night in weeks she'd had a dreamless rest. Her maid came the evening after, and the evening after that, till nightmares would no longer haunt her sleep. She'd often thought that those nights must have bonded them deeply, she and her maid. Something undefinable, that went beyond friendship, of which neither of them ever spoke of, but she was certain Megumi would be as much as aware of it as her. Some things were above imperfect words.

She didn't dream of her mother again since then. Not until the night before. That particular dream was still on her mind, even if it had lost of its vividness. She looked around.

It was then that she noticed that Shinta was nowhere to be seen. Neither was the boy that followed them after trying to attack them. Soujiro was the name, she recalled. She wondered where they were. Maybe they were in the stables, tending to their horses? Shinta seemed to like horses. Or maybe they were in the kitchen, preparing a delicious meal? Her stomach groaned in hunger. Yes, she could definitely do with a meal right now.

She pulled the blankets off her, rising on her feet. The air wasn't overly cold, she decided. Her movements were still awkward, her balance unsure. Her head was spinning, and she had to take support against the wall until the dizzyness passed. Her strength wasn't back yet, but it would soon, she thought, with robust food ingurgitated in her belly. And soon she would be able to hit the road again, and set for Kyoto. She had only delayed too long. She couldn't wait any longer

She didn't know how she would face Shinta yet. How should she behave? Proudly, of course, she decided. She was a lady after all, and he but a samurai of no great quality. But it was vital to clear all the misunderstandings that may have arisen between them. She'd made provocative overtures to him earlier, after all, and he may think her a decadent woman after that. Blood rushed to her cheeks when she remembered how her fingers had grazed his silken skin, outlining his hard muscles. How the mere touch of him had sent shivers snaking down her back, bells tingling in her mind, butterflies fluttering in her stomach. And then, their lips had brushed against each other, so softly that it'd felt like a kiss of paradise. Her cheeks grew hotter at the mere thought of it.

Yes, it was vital that she put him back in his place. She couldn't allow such a thing to happen again. She would clear up the situation with him, lest he grew bold with her and became impudent. She admitted to herself that the fault lay entirely with her. Well, mostly. Fairness was one of her trait, after all. Thus she wouldn't accuse him of anything at all. She would simply tell him that she hadn't been her normal self, and that he shouldn't expect such a situation to come to pass again. That was, of course, absolutely out of question. They would simply continue to behave politely towards each other, and she would be perfectly fine with it. He should not, in any case, expect anything different. Nothing was changed. Nothing.

Nothing? She'd called him a murderer. That changed things. She would be honest with him and tell him that it was just a bad dream. Of course it was just a dream. She wasn't there when assassins killed her mother. What would she know anyway? Well, she knew that it was impossible Shinta could have been one of the killers. Of course it was impossible. He would have been too young back then. It was all a nightmare. Blame the fever. He would understand. He had to.

And did he not take advantage of her weakness? Pulling her into his arms like a vulgar girl, cradling her like a lost child, letting her cry against his chest for who knew how long. He had seen her at her most vulnerable, and that, she decided, was a most unforgivable sin. Yet she would forgive it with good grace. It would be ungrateful and childish to not do so. And it would make them even, forgiving for forgiving.

There. She felt much better now that she reached this conclusion. It was simple really. Foolish of her to even feel awkward about it. Logic was a most efficient tool, she thought, when she condescended to use it at all. Her steps more resolute now, she entered the kitchen. It was empty.

Were they outside? In the stables? Probably. For a moment the thought of waiting for them inside skimmed in her mind. It was tempting; she didn't really want to brave the cold. But it was better to face him now, while her determination was still firm and fresh. She went back to the bedroom, taking great care to make the less noise possible, to not wake Megumi. The poor woman needed her sleep. She took her blankets, enwrapped them tightly around her, and went out.

It was cold, just as she predicted. The day was relatively windless, and the cloudless sky was beautiful to gaze at. There was frost on the ground when they first came there the day before, but now it was gone. The rice field was still wet in some places, and the graveled path damp under her sandals, covered in the morning dew. The air smelled of pine and of black wood. She walked into stables.

No one there. No Shinta, and no Soujiro. And, if the two mares they brought with them from Izushi were still there, the two horses Soujiro'd taken with him were not. She frowned.

A voice rang in the farmhouse. "My lady! My lady!"

Megumi was awake, it seemed. She would be worried not finding her in her bed, no doubt. She walked back towards the house's main entrance. Walked, because she was still too weak to move faster. The door slid open, revealing a breathless Megumi.

"You shouldn't be outside, my lady," her maid said, relieved. "What are you doing here?"

"I was searching for Shinta," she answered casually. She stepped inside the house. "Do you know where he is?"

"Oh." Her maid subdued, sliding the door shut. The reasons why Kaoru would seek the young samurai were obvious. "I think he is gone."

"Gone? What do you mean, gone?"

"He went to Kyoto, or so he said," her maid answered, walking beside her, supporting her. Good old Megumi, always so thoughtful of her well-being.

"Why didn't he wait for us?"

"He said he had pressing matters to attend to."

An unpleasant sensation was settling in. "But he will be back soon, yes?"

A hesitant look crossed her maid's face. "I'm… I'm not certain, my lady. He sounded as if it was a definite parting when he said goodbye to me."

"Damn the insufferable runt," she fumed. "How can he ditch a lady in my condition? He is supposed to keep watch over me until I am fully recovered. Has he no sense of convenience at all?"

Was that a chuckle? A strange sound rose from her maid's throat, soon covered by a cough. Megumi was masking her mouth with her hands, she noted. She screwed her eyes up. That was definitely a chuckle.

"He was very worried about you, my lady," her maid said. "He stayed as long as he could, I'm certain, and left only when he was assured you weren't in danger anymore."

"Danger?"

"The mushrooms you ate could have been lethal to you," Megumi said softly.

"Oh." That quieted her.

"He watched over you all night, my lady," Megumi revealed. "He wouldn't sleep, even when I insisted he did. He urged me to get some rest instead. Said that I needed it more than him. Isn't he adorable?"

She didn't answer that. Adorable? Was her maid blind? She pondered for a moment. "And where's Soujiro?"

"Sir Shinta took Soujiro with him. He said he couldn't trust him with us." Her maid paused for a small moment. "But in any case, my lady," she continued, a mischievous tone entering her voice, "aren't you glad he's gone? We were trying so hard to get rid of him. And he left on his own. This way no one could accuse you of ungratefulness."

"Yes. Yes, of course," she said. Her voice sounded distant and half-hearted, even to her.

"Could it be that you wanted to apologize to him that, my lady?"

She stopped in her tracks. "Apologize? Why should I apologize to him? A lady doesn't need to justify herself to a simple samurai of no quality."

"Why were you searching him then, my lady? It wasn't wise to get in the cold in your state."

Wouldn't her maid keep quiet for once? Megumi's babbling was getting on her nerves. "I just wanted to make things clear between us," Kaoru replied. "Otherwise he might be getting unruly ideas. There was need to clarify the situation. Surely you can understand that," she snapped.

"Yes, my lady," Megumi said mildly.

She stopped, turned to her maid. "By the way, Megumi," she said, trying to sound as stern as she could be, "I distinctly remember you hitting me yesterday."

Megumi had at least the good grace to blush. "I am very sorry, my lady," she said meekly.

Kaoru wasn't fooled. She knew Megumi well enough. She caught the impish gleam that flashed through her maid's eyes. "You aren't sorry, you fox."

"I am, I assure you, my lady."

"How long have we known each other, Megumi? You aren't fooling anyone, fox."

Megumi grinned sheepishly. "Why are you calling me a fox, my lady?"

"Because fox ears are sprouting out of your head."

Her maid stared at her, wide eyed. "Please stop making fun of me, my lady," she exclaimed.

Kaoru laughed good-humoredly, and after a slight moment, Megumi joined her. How long since they last had a genuine laugh? Too long, Kaoru thought. The prospect of her wedding had weighed heavily on her.

She laid a hand on her maid's arm. "Thank you for taking care of me, Megumi," she said softly.

Megumi's eyes flew downwards. "I am only doing my duty," she murmured, blushing slightly. Neither of them was comfortable with too much sentimentalism.

"So he is not coming back, is he?" Kaoru mused, getting back on the subject.

"Probably not, my lady."

"In that case, we will depart for Kyoto today," she declared.

"Are you certain, my lady? You should rest a little more before getting on the road again."

"I am fine, Megumi. Beside, we have delayed long enough. I must be in Kyoto as soon as possible."

He would have been left with a false impression of her, she thought. She regretted that they parted thus, probably never to see each other again. And, somehow, she would miss him. His company wasn't the most refined one, but she had enjoyed it to some degrees nevertheless, if she were to be perfectly honest with herself. And he was handsome too look at.

Handsome? She was getting silly. He was definitely not handsome. Pretty enough, she conceded, and not unpleasing to look at. But he was far from handsome. Far. She didn't even know why she'd had such a thought. It must have been her weariness, the exertion of the previous days. Yes, that was it. She shook herself, deliberately pushing the samurai out of her mind. Damn him for sneaking so deeply into her thoughts.

"As soon as we can," she repeated. "But for now," she said, beaming at Megumi, "I am famished."


	11. The morning after, take two

**A/N: **"Retarded" is what I meant in the previous chapter, as in being impeded, being held up. But I changed it anyway, since it's obtrusive.

Also, I would be grateful if anyone could point me to a clear guideline of what's permissible in R rating, as opposed to NC-17. Thanks in advance.

Note that I've made Aoshi older than Kenshin for the purpose of this story.

Animelover: What's up with the faces? I don't think Megumi ever called Kaoru "my lady" when Kenshin could overhear, but if you find such a scene, please notice it to me.

* * *

Kenshin rode hard, his lids screwed up against the ferocious wind. His gaze stayed steadily on the road ahead, not paying attention to the dreary landscape parading past him, nor to the pounding of heavy hooves against the damp path. A raven croaked, somewhere overhead. He glanced up briefly. The sun was still young in the east. Good. He would make it in time. 

"Samurai-san! Samurai-san! Slow down, or you are going to kill off our mounts."

Why was Soujiro intent on following him? The boy was peculiar, to say the least. Kenshin mistrusted his motives, and so he couldn't leave him with the ladies. But the point was a good one. Kenshin slowed down. It would pity to cripple the poor beasts. He kept a good pace nevertheless. It would be more pity still, if his father crippled him for being too late.

Or maybe not. His father would understand. A samurai worthy of the name couldn't leave a lady when she was struggling against illness, and possibly death. Especially if the lady in question happened to be your future bride. He only departed her when he was certain that she wasn't in danger anymore. It would be against the code of honor to do otherwise, and honor was everything for a warrior. His father knew this as well as he. Even the old egomaniacal man couldn't blame him for that.

In fact, he shouldn't have left her at all. But there were certain things that came before personal honor, when one was the son of a noble house. The family went first and foremost, and one didn't dishonor one's family by not presenting oneself before the emperor.

But that wasn't the exact truth either, he had to admit. He wouldn't lie to himself; that was the worst sort of deception. He was his father's second son. His brother was heir to their family's domain. He, on the other hand, was but a noble cadet like so many others in this country. His absence wouldn't have been much of an affront. Urgencies happened all the time; even the sacred emperor was powerless against them. No. The truth was, part of him had been eager to leave. Or, if he was perfectly honest with himself, eager to flee her presence.

Murderer, she'd called him.

His vision swayed. It had been some time since he last slept, he recalled. He was more tired than what he thought. He felt oddly disconnected with his senses. He was awake, and yet he moved as if in a dream. It was, he mused, very much like being drunk.

She'd called him a murderer.

Curses. Damn the woman. She carried a real blade with her, and appeared ready to use it. How could she not be aware that the art of the sword was the art of murder? He used his sword to protect. And in order to protect, he had to kill. There was nothing else to say, really. People died everyday, from hunger, from senseless violence, fallen to disease, or to war. Men, women. Children. The world was cruel, it was nothing new. And still each morning the sun rose in the east.

A murderer, him? Yes, he'd killed countless men. It was the way of the warrior, to take others' lives. It was what he did best. His father had taught him to do so since as long as he could remember. Hiko the thirteenth was a hard taskmaster, a slave driver. He made Kenshin fight his brother, almost every day. Kenshin always lost. Aoshi was older, and stronger. Kenshin'd grown up harboring a deep grudge against his brother. So he trained, and trained harder still. It was a harsh childhood, and there was no excess of sentimentalism in it. His father wanted his offspring to be tough and prepared for the outside world.

And then one day he won. He remembered well the shocked look on Aoshi's features. He'd felt an empty joy then, an almost sadistic pleasure. That day changed him. He never lost again since then. His self-confidence grew sharply, while at the same time a piece of him died. His brother had been his aim, the goal he longed to reach. He'd reached it, found the taste of victory bitter.

Since then he'd been to war with his lord father. Seen people die for futile causes, soldiers or innocent townsfolk. He'd lost too many of companions-in-arms, young men he'd been well acquainted with, some of them friends. They died, while he went on. Skill was what separated him from them. The skilled survived, while the less skilled didn't.

People whispered behind his back, he knew. Said that he was a cold-hearted bastard, a killer without emotions. He shrugged it off. They feared him, and were jealous of him. That he could deal with, disregard even. He fought for his family's ancestral lands, and for the weak. Wasn't that the ideal of the samurai?

But he'd wondered, when she cried in his arms. He saw her grief, so intense it made his chest tighten painfully. He ached to be at her side forever, to protect her, shelter her from hurting ever again. And he'd felt inadequate to do so. Insufficient. Filthy, his hands soiled. She deserved better, of that he was sure.

He'd wondered, too, if someone would weep for him if he died, like she wept for her mother. Would his father? His brother? Servants? Soldiers? Tomoe? Yes, at least Tomoe would grieve for him, he was fairly certain. He wanted to be certain.

Murderer. The memory lingered in his mind. For the first time in many years, he'd wished he could be otherwise. But he wasn't. Ironic, that he wasn't the culprit for once.

"See, samurai-san," Soujiro called, "We'll arrive soon."

He blinked. He'd become dangerously unfocused, his mind slipping away. He was far too tired for his own good, and was perilously vulnerable at the moment. He sneaked a glance at Soujiro. He couldn't read anything on the boy's face.

The imperial city loomed larger by the moment below them. Kyoto beckoned, shining its full glory in the morning's light rays. Kenshin remained insensitive to its beauty. He'd seen it far too often, and he cared not for the decadent pomp. He found it mildly repulsive, even. To think that farmers struggled to enrich their rice bowl with a piece of chicken of beef.

It was Hiko of Ise, lady Kaoru's maid said. He allowed himself a private laugh. He wasn't going to contradict them if that's what they believed. The lord Kamiya still held a grudge, it seemed, against his father. And his father had accepted the responsibility. As good as admitting the deed, Kenshin thought. His father was a fool to do so, to acknowledge a murder not his own. To let hatred grow so insidious, all those years. And why? For the sake of a lone woman? Just in the name of sentiment? The old man was growing senile.

But he could almost understand him, in a way. He'd experienced first hand what a woman could do to you, last night. Women, it was often said, were the downfall of the brave samurai. He had no doubt it was true. The way her finger titillated his skin…. He'd stood on a steep cliff then, his arms raised, reaching for the forbidden fruit. It had been so close. Too close. When she'd caressed his nipple, he'd felt aroused as never before in his life, his mind in turmoil. All his muscles had tensed by instinctive reflex. He hadn't dared to move, lest he made a fatal mistake. She was his future wife, he'd thought. He was going to have her in any case. Why not now, and virtue be damned? He'd been tempted, oh so tempted. And when she'd brushed against him, her lips tasting of peach against his, he'd felt inch-close to lose his control, to dive head first into the precipice, to take her, willing or unwilling.

He was no stranger to women. His father made sure of that. He'd known the company of geishas since his puberty. Part of his education. One fell easily to women's wiles if one didn't have prior experience of them, his father said. And so Kenshin experienced them in abundance. Many a hardened warrior, after all, have fallen prey to seemingly feeble women's snares. A lusty glance here, a childish pout there, and men who wouldn't hesitate to slaughter children became weak as babies. Fools.

Fools? He remembered his own weakness all too well. He was a fool too, for being so easily charmed by the lady Kaoru. And she had only been under the influence of some mushroom. He didn't want to think about what she could do if she gave it a deliberate try at seducing a clueless man. She would melt marble stone that way, he was sure. She was altogether too dangerous. What would people say, if they knew that the cruel Battousai would flee a frail woman? They would have some laugh, that was for sure. For a moment he considered letting her to her own fate. That would avoid him troubles to come, he was certain. Maybe she would find some stratagems to postpone or even break the proposed marriage. He would be glad for that.

Or a part of him would be glad. Another part of him wanted nothing more than rip the cursed kimono off her shoulders, and savor her skin. He wondered idly how she would taste. Of peach, like her lips? Of cherry? Or, like her scent, would she taste of jasmine? He wanted to know. He wanted to break through the ice of her cool regality, and find the fire he was sure of discovering beneath. He wanted his hands all over her, caressing her soft curves, driving her mad with soft torture. As a repayment of what she did to him, of course. He wanted to see her wild, calling his name in the throes of—

He shook himself. It was his imagination that was running wild. He didn't care for where the train of his thoughts were headed. He looked around for a distraction.

"Soujiro," he called. He slowed his pace, pulled his horse closer to Soujiro's.

"Yes, samurai-san?"

"Tell me more about this Houji."


	12. Kyoto

**A/N: **If you forgot him, Houji is Shishio's creepy-looking right-hand man. (The one with the gun.) Also, if you didn't read my edited note in the previous chapter, I made Aoshi older than Kenshin in this fic (alongside many other liberties I took….) And again, thanks to all those who took the time to drop a review!

ChocolateBanana: Huh, a third? No offense, but I would be very happy with one in thirty..

Wyldcat: Nah, I wrote that Tomoe is Hiko's wife, and Kenshin's stepmother.

Kana: Orororo, a Japanese reader... I'm so flattered. Hajimemashite! Now, if I could have a Congolese or an Inuit reader too, that would be awesome, but that's another story...

* * *

"What is this stupid son of mine doing?" Hiko said for the hundredth time. The morning was young yet, bright sunrays filtering in the room through the shoji door. The imperial capital outside already bustled with routine activity. Vendors advertised their fare, their shouts promising cheap rice or quality meat. Samurais patrolled Kyoto's busy streets, the clunking of their steps echoing through the rice screen. 

A man stood near the door, silent, watching, his hand never far from the hilt of his sword. His hairs fell in fringes across his forehead in what resembled bamboo leaves.

"Where is Aoshi?" Hiko asked him.

"At the imperial palace already, waiting for you, my lord."

Hiko grunted. He eyed the man's hairstyle once again. "Saitou, how many times did I tell you to get rid of your bamboo curtain? Don't go thinking you look good with it," he said with a snicker. The man remained stoic.

"No need to pester poor Saitou," Tomoe said behind him. "Your bodyguard has nothing to do in this."

He turned to her. She knelt beside the lone table, calm as ever. It was a quality he appreciated in her, odd as it may be. Her apparent aloofness and her collected demeanor was what had attracted him to her in the first place. She was truly a daughter of an old house, he thought, her bearing always aristocratic and noble. A smirk spread to his mouth. It always amused him to crack her prim mask. But not now. He sobered. There were other problems to consider right now. Namely, the absence of his second son. The idiot.

"I told him it was important," he said, barely concealing his impatience. "What is he thinking?"

"Something grave must have held him up." Tomoe said, her voice quiet as always. "I am certain he will do his best to come here in time."

"His best is not enough," he said. "He _must _be here." There trouble brewing in the imperial court. It wasn't too early to make his move, he thought. There was need to indicate his support for emperor Godaigo. And it was important to introduce Kenshin. The boy had developed into a fine warrior, and he would be an asset in the troubled times to come. Not that Hiko would admit it aloud. It was well known that too much praise softened your arm.

"Kenshin is not irresponsible, you know that, beloved," his wife said.

"Not irresponsible? Then explain to me why he took off after two females instead directly of coming here with you?"

"They were also headed here," she murmured. "He must have felt that it was his duty to escort two women without protection."

He suppressed a laugh. Tomoe was wise for her years, but she was young still, and naïve in some ways. "You don't know how boys his age think," he said. "Some womanly curves, and everything's forgotten."

"You speak from experience, I see," she said mildly. What was that prissy tone? His bodyguard snorted.

He wasn't going to let that perturb him, of course. "Of course," he said. He smirked. "Nothing's more important than chasing some comely lasses for men this young, you can believe me. They are positively obsessed."

"And it gets better with age?"

He flinched slightly. "Of course. Older men are wise enough to know better. Especially when they are fortunate enough to have a beautiful wife who is all they can wish for."

She emitted a low chuckle. "In any case, your youth must have been fascinating," she said.

He found himself amused. It was not often that Tomoe showed evidence of humor. "More than you can imagine, wife."

"You will tell me all of it, I hope."

"One day I will. Maybe."

A bell rang, somewhere in the city. It was soon time to go. What was Kenshin doing? He began pacing the room.

"Calm down, beloved," Tomoe said. She poured sake in a small cup, gestured to him to come to her. "Here, have a drink."

He knelt down next to her. "I dislike drinking alone," he said. Not true, or not entirely. He was used to drinking alone. But he still preferred to drink in company. He turned his head towards Saitou. "Have a cup with me, Saitou," he said.

"I shall abstain myself, my lord," his bodyguard said. "You know that I become bloodthirsty with too much alcohol."

Hiko turned back to Tomoe. "Then drink with me, wife."

She nodded gracefully, and poured a cup for herself. His wife, he'd discovered, was no stranger to alcohol. They drank together in silence. For once the rich flavor tasted bland on his tongue.

"It is winter, and yet there is no snow today," he murmured. "Sake tastes dull without it." He put his cup down. "You shouldn't have let Kenshin go his own way, Tomoe," he said softly.

She finished her cup, her eyes downcast. She didn't reply, nor did she look at him. He observed her profile. Suspicious. A suspicion came to him.

"My son loves you still," he said flatly.

"He believes he loves me," she murmured. "It is but an adolescent crush. He will know the difference, if he finds the right woman one day."

Saitou was listening, but it didn't really matter. Saitou followed him almost everywhere, and he kept few secrets from his bodyguard. Besides, this particular matter was known widely enough among his household.

"And is his crush reciprocated?" he asked.

She looked up at him, her pale features showing some surprise. "Are you jealous of your own son, sir?" she said with a small smile.

He wasn't, of course. But he didn't answer. "So you let him go to spare his feeling?" he asked instead. The better defense was to go on the offense. As a master of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, he knew that well.

"He was ill at ease in my presence," she said reluctantly. "He…. He seemed eager to leave, somehow. I thought it would be better if we went our separate ways." She shrugged. "He was bound here in any case."

"It doesn't seem so," he remarked. "I know you feel uncomfortable with this situation," he sighed, "but you know I have intrigued heavily to have this audience. This is more than a mere visit of courtesy."

"Maybe you should have told your son so then," she said quietly.

"He can't be unaware of it. He is a perceptive boy, despite all his flaws." He looked at Tomoe, weighting his words. "Do you think that he still resents me for marrying you?"

"Maybe… probably," she conceded. "Part of it is adolescent rebellion, I think, and part of it is resentment, yes." She sighed. "But he wouldn't come late intentionally just because of petty rancor. Kenshin is not that shallow."

"Let's hope so," he said. "There is much at stake."

"Are those stakes the reason why you married him off to the Kamiyas?"

He nodded, once. "Aa." His wife was a sharp woman; he would be well advised to never forget that. There was little he could hide from her. A short silence, as they waited.

"I am not uncomfortable," Tomoe said finally.

He arched his eyebrows.

"You said you knew I felt uncomfortable about the situation," she reminded him. She gazed straight into his eyes. "But I am not. Kenshin will move on, I am certain. For now, as long as I am by your side, I am content. I know that our marriage was a political one, but—"

He hushed her. His wife was a gem of woman. Let him not forget that, either. He took one of her white hand into his, bringing it towards him. He kissed her palm. She smiled tenderly.

The shoji flung open. A young man stared down at them, his blank expression turning into uneasiness.

Hiko looked up. "Not too early, son,"

* * *

The sight that greeted him when Kenshin opened the shoji door wasn't one he would have expected. His father, his mouth pressed to Tomoe's hand. The scene seemed oddly intimate, and he felt a voyeur for interrupting it. He felt a pang of jealousy too, and he ruthlessly reined it in. 

"Not too early, son," his father said, looking up at him.

"I have been detained by an urgency," he said curtly.

He entered the room, Soujiro on his tails. He saw his father's gaze skim past his shoulder and to Soujiro, then back at him, questioning.

"A luggage I picked up en route," he said.

"A luggage?" Soujiro said behind him. "How rude of you, samurai-san. I am Soujiro," he told Hiko.

"I see," Hiko said, rising.

"Are you samurai-san's father?" Soujiro asked, bright-eyed. "Did you teach him kenjutsu?"

Hiko frowned at Soujiro. "I did."

"Oh, how fortunate! Could you teach it to me too, please?"

Hiko approached the smiling brat. "Do you see this cloak?" his father asked, clutching said cloak in his fist. "It weighs eighty pounds. It is the proof its bearer is a master of our school. Do you think you are strong enough to wear it?"

"Ah, I don't think so," Soujiro laughed.

"I thought so as well," Hiko said. "Do some bodybuilding first if you want to learn the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu. Anyway" he said, turning to Kenshin, "do you know how late you are, stupid son?"

"As I said, an urgency," Kenshin said. He couldn't prevent some hostility from slipping into his voice. "There was a lady in need and—"

"Ah, a lady," the old man interrupted, turning to Tomoe. "What did I tell you, wife?"

"It is not what you are thinking," he said.

"Oh?" His father approached him, his face suddenly severe. They stared hard at each other. Kenshin had to admit that Hiko the thirteenth looked a little intimidating like this. "You almost missed an appointment with the emperor for a woman. What should I be thinking?"

He allowed himself a private snicker. "Even when the woman in question is my future wife?"

_That_ surprised his father.

"Oh, I didn't know that!" Soujiro said, intruding. "It's becoming more and more interesting."

His father glanced at Soujiro, then back at him again. "You will tell me more of this. But for now we must go." He turned to his wife. "Tomoe." She rose.

"One moment," Kenshin said. He walked to Saitou. "Do something for me," he said to the wolf. "The lady Kaoru might soon arrive in this city. Keep an eye on her."

"You don't order me, Battousai," Saitou said, looking at him with an amusement tinted with hostility. "My duty is to protect your father. I owe nothing to you."

Kenshin expected an answer like this. But he knew how to tempt the man. He and Saitou had crossed sword before, when the latter served under the lord of Tsu, a duel stalled into a draw.

"Do it for me," he said, "and when all of this is finished, we will settle our match."

Saitou smiled. There was something eerie and feral in that smile; he was truly a wolf, Kenshin thought. "You would make a widow of your wife?" Saitou asked.

"You shouldn't be worrying about me," he retorted. "It is fortunate that you are not married. I needn't fear leaving a tearful widow when I kill you."

"You are showing some spirit, boy," his father intervened. Hiko was smirking, he saw. "I'll allow it. Saitou, do as he ask."

Saitou seemed ready to protest for one second, but he relented. "Very well," he said, his expression still intense. "Tell me the details."

He did so as quickly as he could.

"Are you finished, son?" Hiko asked hurriedly.

"I'm done." He turned to Saitou. "Nothing harmful is to happen to the lady," he said.

"Of course," Saitou said. He sneered. "I look forward to our match."

Kenshin turned without replying. "I am ready to go, father."

"Good," Hiko said. "Tell us about this wife you're so enamored of on the way."

He tensed. "You should know her better than me. You are the one who picked her, after all."

"Good point," Hiko said agreeably.

"An unbecoming choice at that."

"Probably true."

"I still don't understand why me and not Aoshi."

"Easy," the old man said. "I chose a wife for you…." His father's face inched close to his, looking at him with a wicked gleam in his eyes. "… so that you'll keep your hands off mine."

His heart jolted in his chest. His shock must have been plain to read, but Hiko'd already turned towards Tomoe. His father offered a hand to his wife. She took it.

"Watch, boy," his father said, "and learn." Hiko turned his head to him again, smiled smugly. "You'll never rival my good looks or my charm. Just accept your loss and live with it." With that he walked out with Tomoe, leaving him speechless.

"Haha, your father is a very interesting man, samurai-san."

* * *

Her plan was a straightforward one, all things considered. The first part consisted in misleading her father's men. Two women strangely resembling her and Megumi, and even wearing their usual clothes, would had made sure to be seen leaving Izushi by the western gate. The deception was simple. Her father would assume that she would flee west. Her maternal grandparents governed Matsue, and they never forgave her father for not taking immediate action against Himura after her mother's death. It was a logical choice. And even if the trickery were to be unmasked, it would still buy her enough time. 

The second part of the plan presumed that she reach Kyoto. She did.

They'd reached the imperial capital a bit earlier. Kaoru was enchanted by the view of the beautiful city, a thousand tiled roofs glittering under the sun. The Kiyomizudera spread into sight, the magnificent wooden temple standing proud over the mountain. And even from afar, she could see the streets brimming with so many people, so much more than her native Izushi.

She was now walking anxiously through one of those crowed street, Megumi beside her, making their way past rich patricians and poor peasants, proud warriors and gracile women, their face covered with paint. A band of warriors passed her. She watched them wearily with her eyes downcast. Could they be her father's men, already on the lookout for her? She'd lost precious time on the way.

Merchants often hailed them from the sides, offering them clothes or flowers. A lovely bunch of jasmine almost tempted her, but she declined with courtesy. There would always be time for that later. The air was cool, but not cold, especially here amongst so many people. The sky was radiant, promise of a successful day.

A man bumped roughly into her maid.

"Hey! Watch where you are going," Megumi said.

"Excuse me," the man sneered. He had, Kaoru saw with a start, thin black bangs over his brow covering his chilly face. The man reminded her strongly of a wild wolf. She eyed uneasily the sword at his hip.

"You need to look where you are walking," her maid insisted. Kaoru winced. It wasn't the time for that.

"I already said 'excuse me,' woman. Now get lost. You're fooling no one with that fake lady air of yours."

"Fake? Watch your foul mouth."

He took Megumi's chin between his thumb and his index, seizing her maid. Megumi snapped his hand away.

"What are you doing," she fumed.

He ignored her, and took in Megumi's appearance, scanning her from toe to head.

"Not bad," he said, finally turning away. "Take my advice, and be careful. You never know who you might bump into. You were pretty lucky it was me," he said, walking away. "That feisty mouth of yours will get you into troubles with less tolerant men."

"How dare you," Megumi almost shouted.

"Come, let him be," Kaoru told her maid. "Don't provoke him." The man had a dangerous look about him, and just watching him edge away into the crowd sent cold shivers down her spine. It must have been the weather, she told herself. "And he's right. No need to stir troubles. Let's go, Megumi. It's not far from here."

Indeed, it was not far. Ten minutes later, after a nervous walk, always careful of avoiding the attention of passing patrols, and bumping into two more people, they stood in front of a large city house. The façade was a little worn out, but the place was still imposing. Kaoru knocked at the wodden door. It opened, revealing a man in his thirties.

She rushed to hug him, relieved. "Uncle Houji," she exclaimed.

* * *

**Notes: **Ok, there was probably plenty of OOCness here, especially the whole Kenshin/Tomoe thing, but this chapter was such a riot to write. 

Also, a geographical note: Matsue is west of Izushi, while Kyoto is southeast.


	13. Uncle Houji

**A/N:** I'm very tempted to fly to Pamplona, and go run with the bulls, but… my life's still precious to me, and I'm not sure I will be able to run fast enough. Anyway here be some review replies, I felt like answering in detail for once.

kawaii meeh: Tomoe's three years older than Kenshin, just like in the original, so a little more than twenty in this fic, I guess.  
c-tesshin: Probably no Sano or Yahiko, but who knows.  
wyldcat: Yes, probably, there's no Shinsengumi in this fic, no, and probably not.  
omasuoniwabanshi and lolopopoki: glad you liked the Hiko/Tomoe thing, maybe I'm going to do a Saitou/Megumi thing now if I feel evil enough.  
fallenavalon: How rude… heh. Point away anything you want, and I'll correct the mistakes. I just prefer to avoid rereading myself while still writing the first draft, for various reasons.  
chakitattyla2h8: His mother's probably dead, yeah.  
ChocolateBanana: That'll grow worse the longer your story gets, up to a point.

And thanks to all the others who took the time to drop a line or ten!

* * *

Kaoru was anxious. Uncle Houji had been away since the day before, and she hadn't received any news from him. So she waited. Her uncle was her only hope of breaking the prearranged wedding, and he was working on doing exactly that right now, she was sure. But she was still disquiet with the waiting. 

But there was something more terrible than her anxiety. She was bored. Completely, utterly bored. She couldn't go out and luxuriate among perfume merchants stalls, of course, for fear of being found. The house's servants wouldn't converse with her, no matter how hard she tried. They were all intimidated by her presence. She could play a game of shogi with her maid, but there were only so many games she could play before tiring from it. Besides, she really wasn't in the mood for that.

If only Shinta had stayed with her. She could have amused herself with him. Maybe she could have teased him. The memory of how exactly she'd teased him the last time came back to her, warming her cheek. That had been definitely… embarrassing. Yet it had been inexplicably fun. It must have been the state she was in, yes. But even so…. Shinta might be without manners, but there hadn't been a dull moment with him.

"My lady," Megumi said across the table around which they both knelt, recalling her back to reality, "what do you intend to do if your uncle fails?"

Fail? No, no, that wouldn't happen. "Uncle Houji won't fail," she said. "He knows the wheels of the imperial court, and has the ear of general Ashikaga. Didn't he ride with at Ashikaga's sides, when the general seized Kyoto back for the emperor? He will be able to obtain a withdrawal of the emperor's sanctioning for my prearranged marriage."

"If he is so influent, why couldn't he achieve it without calling you here?" Megumi asked, dubious.

"It is to delay the wedding, of course. Uncle Houji's been working on breaking it for weeks now, but those kinds of things take time. And he said I could be needed here, in case I had to present the case to the emperor myself. Besides," she said heartily, "if I catch the eyes of a powerful suitor here, it could be easier to swallow for father."

"It doesn't really makes sense to me," Megumi said with a grimace.

Kaoru frowned at her maid. "Are you distrusting my uncle?" No reply. She went on. "Uncle Houji is as much repulsed by the prospect of me marrying a Himura than I am myself. He will do anything he can. And if he says he can succeed, then he will succeed."

"But he is betraying your father, his own brother," Megumi said.

"And so am I," she said. She softened her tone. "Father chose political gains above honor," she said. "We are not to blame for disagreeing with him. It is even our duty to our name. What will people say of our family, if this wedding really comes to pass? They will laugh behind our back, or even openly at us. 'See,' they will say, 'Himura killed her mother, and now Kamiya Kaoru is wedding his son, just so her father can gain power.' That is what they will say, and our family's name will be soiled for generations to come. I refuse to take part in this grotesque marriage. My ancestors must be trembling in their tombs at this outrage."

"Your tea is ready, my lady," a shy voice interrupted from outside the shoji screen.

"Come in," Kaoru said.

The door slid open, shedding muted light into the dim room, casting pale yellow over the plum-pink walls and the black and maroon chests and table. A young girl came in, carrying a tray. She couldn't have been older than Kaoru herself; probably younger.

The girl set down two usacha bowls on the table. She took a leaf-green tetsubin pot, and poured the tea into them. The lush aroma of gyokuro reached Kaoru's nose.

"Thank you," Kaoru said to the servant, smiling warmly. "You are most helpful."

The girl bowed. "You are most kind, my lady," she said. Her cheeks were red, Kaoru saw. How cute. "Please call me, if there is anything I can do," the girl said again.

"I will," Kaoru assured. She watched the girl walk out. The room plunged into dimness again once the servant slid the door shut.

Kaoru cupped a bowl in her hands and drank in silence, imitated by Megumi. They listened as the servant's steps slowly faded away.

"I understand your determination, my lady, I assure you," Megumi said finally, laying her bowl down. "It is just that your uncle…. I am uneasy about him, my lady, and about the whole point of bringing you here."

Kaoru raised a hand. "Do not denigrate my uncle," she said. "He will never betray my trust. I have faith."

Uncle Houji had always been sweet and kind to her. In fact, he was the family member she was most fond of, now that her mother was gone. Each time he visited in Izushi, he would bring her adorable gifts, like a white pony that had been her favorite mount when she was little, or, when she grew older, a gorgeous yukata that would leave men slack-jawed when she donned it. He would take her on his knees until she was too old for that, and feed her candies in secret, or tell her that she had inherited her mother's beauty and class. One day, he used to say, Kaoru would be lone jewel amongst all Japanese ladies, the most sought-after woman in the whole country. She loved Uncle Houji.

Still, she wasn't without her own reservations about her uncle's queer request that she come to Kyoto. But she wouldn't voice her doubt. A lady had to be strong, and firm.

"Still, my lady, you cannot discount the possibility of this plan failing," Megumi said urgently.

Kaoru disliked arguments, but she had to concede that her maid had a point there. "If it fails," she said, "then I will have no other choice than to flee in a remote province, and hide."

"My lady, you cannot hide forever," Megumi said with alarm

She had already thought about that, as it was. "And why not? No one will find me in some nameless village far from here," she said, determined. "I will break all ties with my father, if need be."

Megumi looked skeptical. "And forsake your comfortable life many envy you?"

"Riches are nothing to me." Not entirely true, if she were honest with herself. She was human after all. Riches accounted for something. She sighed. "I will not say that I wouldn't regret my former life, that I would leave it merry and lighthearted. But I will do so, if need be. Riches are nothing next to honor."

"Then will you dishonor your father, by deserting his household? Will you dishonor your family, by leaving it with no heir?"

"You are toying with words," Kaoru said with impatience. "I prefer to leave my family to rot rather than to inherit a discredited name."

"Surely you don't mean that, my lady," Megumi said, distressed.

"Try me," she said, lifting her chin.

Megumi stared at her, disbelieving. "And how will you sustain yourself, then? Will you do menial work? Or worse, will you end in one of those pleasure house, selling your body—"

The very idea! "Megumi! How dare you—"

"Or will you wed a smelly and flea-infested peasant, or maybe a greasy merchant with no hair left on his head and a belly fatter than cows? That would be some sight to behold, my lady."

What a repulsive idea. But better than be doomed to marry the odious Himura. Kaoru turned her head away. "I shall see when the times come. Now please stop this. I tire of this conversation—"

"My lady," her maid insisted, gripping Kaoru's arm. "This is serious matter. Maybe I should have broached the subject earlier with you, but now that there is time to think, please consider my words. It is not too late yet to go back to your father, but there will come a point where you will not be able to turn back anymore. Please choose carefully, my lady, I plead of you. Better not live with regrets the rest of your life."

Kaoru laid a hand on her maid's arm. She should have been angry, and may have been in another circumstances, but she was touched by her maid's intensity. Megumi truly cared for her, and this was proof of that, if she'd ever doubted it before. "I know you mean well, Megumi," she said as gently as she could, "but do you think I haven't considered those matters already before? For days and weeks I have weighed up the pros and the cons, and have reached my conclusion. My mind is set."

"My lady—"

She cut her maid off. "Megumi, let us not discuss failure further, I pray of you, lest we incur the gods' displeasure, and failure indeed falls to us."

Megumi was about to make another reply, but at that moment the shoji screens slid open again. Uncle Houji walked in, his feet faintly irritated on the tatami.

"Uncle!" Kaoru said. She sprang to her feet, beaming. "How did it go? Do you bring fortunate tidings? Will I be able to see the emperor in person? What…." Her words winded down, as did her smile. Her uncle expression was clearly upset. Oh no, no. She felt fear creep into her chest. Her heart thumped faster against her ribcage

"It will take longer than what I first thought," her uncle said with a nervous smile. "But don't worry, dear Kaoru. We will have what we both want, the cancellation of your ill-fated wedding. I am working day and night on it, you know that."

So why wasn't there any clear result yet, then? But she couldn't voice that thought. She said instead, as graciously as she could: "I know, uncle, and I am grateful. I… I just cannot push my fears out of my mind."

Uncle gave a short dry laugh. Anyone could tell it was very strained. "There's no need to fear, Kaoru. You can be certain that I won't let a Himura lay his filthy hands on you. This I swear before your mother's departed spirit," he said, his voice suddenly so passionate that it made Kaoru uncomfortable.

"Then—"

"Give me some days," her uncle said, seemingly genial again, "and I shall be able to arrange a personal audience with our glorious emperor."

Her uncle seemed very sure of himself, and it lifted her spirits somewhat. She nodded slowly. "Thank you, uncle Houji. I guess I am becoming impatient with all the waiting. The longer I stay here, the longer I risk being found out by father's men." Her father may have been fooled for a time, but her own journey to Kyoto hadn't gone without witness, even if she took great care to be stealthy.

"Ah, I just came back for this reason," uncle Houji said. "I think it would be safer for you if you stayed at another place."

Her heart jolted. "Then father's men—"

"I didn't catch sight of them, at least for the moment. No, the Himuras concern me more."

"The Himuras?"

"Yes. The whole family is here, it seems."

She jerked back a step. She felt her eyes widen. The Himuras, here? The mere thought of being in the same city as them gave her an irrational yearning for vengeance. "How…. What are they doing here? Have they caught wind of my disappearance already? Are they here for me? Are—"

"No, no, dear child, they couldn't have heard about you yet. My brother will wait as long as he can before leaking the news. But the Himuras are here nonetheless, plotting and scheming like they always do. In fact they are the reason our plan is being delayed. They are wheedling the emperor at this very moment."

Was the whole world against her? Why would the Himuras be intriguing in the imperial court, those days of all days? Such a coincidence, but was it a coincidence at all?

"In any case," her uncle continued, "they may come to pay a visit here, since I am your father's brother, and thus a future relative-in-law, or so they believe. We can't run the risk of them finding you here."

"Where will I stay then?" She knew no one else reliable in this city. Kyoto suddenly seemed like a vast and overpopulated trap to her. If only she knew where to find Shinta, he may know a place for her to stay—

"I own a small house in the mountains, outside the city," her uncle said. "It's modest, but I believe it will be sufficient. And it will be for a few days at most."

"Then I shall go there," she said. "Megumi will accompany me, of course."

"Of course, Kaoru. Usui," he called.

A man came into view, stopping at the doorframe. His hand clutched a shortspear, and a strange stripe of cloth hid his eyes. His kimono bore the motif of many eyes on it. He chilled her, for some reason. Her instinct screamed at her that this was a dangerous man, but she remained quiet.

"This is Usui, one of my most trusted warrior," uncle Houji said. "He will escort you to your temporary lodging."

"Enchanted to meet you, Usui," she said, smiling sweetly at him. He gifted her back with a nasty smile of his own. This was definitely not a man she would want to frequent. She would take Shinta's rudeness over his unpleasant grin and his weird mustache any day, thank you very much.

That night, she and Megumi slipped furtively out of her uncle's residence, hidden in a plain-looking wagon, guided by the lone Usui. A warrior, transporting his master's fare, if anyone saw and asked. Now warriors had to be used to convey such basic supply as food. A pity, but a necessity of the harsh times. The emperor was back, but the samurai class was losing influence and status. Tragic.

Through the wagon's slited flanks, Kaoru observed the city's darkened streets, quiet in the late hours. At one angular corner, she thought she saw a man, tall and lean with bamboo-like bangs curtaining his brow, leaning between an inn and a bonsai shop. But when she glanced again, no one was there anymore.

* * *

**Notes:** a tetsubin is the traditional Japanese pot for serving tea, usacha is a tea bowl, and gyokuro is a green tea from Japan. 

The romance shall be back soon, but for now it's plot development.


	14. A dark night

"Welcome to this humble abode, lady Kamiya" the woman said. She bowed. "My name is Honjou Katamari, and I am the steward of the house. Please tell me all you may need." 

"I shall do so," Kaoru assured her with a nod.

The house was small in comparison with uncle Houji's residence in Kyoto, maybe the size of her father's estate's smaller warehouse, but it seemed sufficient for the task. She wasn't going to complain about such thing, in any case. Honor above riches, she'd told Megumi, and she wasn't lying.

"This way, please," Katamari said, leading the way.

The garden was a well-tended one, from what she could see in the scarce light, and a single pond sat in it. Kaoru thought she could see fishes in it, sometimes splitting arrowheads in the smooth water surface. As she walked upon the grizzly cobblestones, she let her gaze wander about her, taking in the sand rocks erect on the ground projecting dull shadows, the small lit up stone lantern capped with what looked suspiciously like a flat hat, the carpet of ferns and mosses, mostly dark save for the small patches fortunate enough to come under the lantern light. There were trees also, what looked like black pines and cherry trees, all naked now, and the moonlight couldn't wash away their bleakness.

"Lovely," Kaoru said. It was true, up to a point. It was also true that the elongated shadows looked threatening to her, and even the quarter moon seemed sinister behind fleeting strands of clouds.

"Thank you, my lady." Katamari said, obvious of her discomfort. The stewardess turned to her, and beamed, clasping her two hands together near her cheek. "I work very hard at keeping this garden as pretty as I can."

There was something strange about the girl, something…, but Kaoru couldn't tell precisely what it was. She shook herself. She was just probably imagining things. She was too stressed for her own good. "You must be a talented gardener," she assured, smiling. "Don't you think so, Megumi?"

Beside her, Megumi nodded faintly. "Indeed. This is a lovely garden," her maid said. Kaoru could tell Megumi was troubled as well, even if she didn't let it out in her posture. "This must be quite some task, tending to it alone. Are you the only one living here, Katamari-san?"

"Oh no, no, there is also Chou." Katamari pouted. "But he just spends his time polishing his swords, and doesn't do any work. I have to do everything myself." She sighed. "What a pain." She beamed suddenly at Kaoru. "At least you will be in security here, my lady. He is skilled with his blades." Katamari frowned. "Or so he says. Ah here he is."

A man was leaning against one of the wooden pillars that supported the yosemune roof. He carried with him an impressive array of weapons, and was looking at them with one eye open and the other one half-closed. The most striking thing about him, Kaoru thought, was his hair, long blond spikes sprouting from the top of his head like bamboo shoots, making him appear taller than what he was.

At her approach he gave her an impertinent bow and an assured smirk. "Welcome, my lady," he greeted, his red kimono swooshing about him. "I am Chou, and I will be your bodyguard during your stay here."

She gave him a sharp nod. She felt an instinctive dislike of the warrior. "Greetings, Chou. I hope you will protect us well indeed." Her tone was frostier than what she intended. But he didn't seem to take notice.

"Don't worry," he said. "With me here, not even a hundred men will be able get past to you. You can sleep in peace."

Katamari humphed. "Stop bragging, you lazy broomhead. If you have so much free time, help me with the chores instead."

"What did you say, old hag?" he said casually. "I'm a warrior, not a servant. Get over that already."

"You jerk, I'm also a wa…." She stopped herself. "I mean, I also want to have some time to rest." She beamed at Kaoru. "Please, let us ignore this lout. This way, my lady, this way" she gestured.

After a last glance towards Chou, Kaoru followed Katamari inside the house. She was feeling uneasy, and couldn't tell why. Surely, if her uncle'd entrusted her to those two, then they must be worthy of his regard. Chou looked competent enough, but she couldn't sense in him the lethal aura both Shinta and Soujiro possessed. Then again, those two looked nothing more than a genial boy and a grim samurai when they weren't fighting. She sighed.

Chou's voice followed her into the house. "Rest easy lady, Chou's here. Rest easy."

A shiver ran down her back.

* * *

"It went better that what I anticipated," Kenshin said. They were back in their townhouse, and the day had already given way to darkness. Kenshin felt weariness slink in his bone. 

"What do you mean?" Hiko said, sitting brownish tatami beside him. "The damned officials are nothing but intriguing fools. They couldn't do anything in time, if their miserable lives depended on it. Entirely their fault if we had to spend almost two day at the palace." Like Kenshin, his father held no love for political play, even if he had to dance to its tunes, for the sake of necessity.

"Emperor Godaigo is smarter than what I thought, at least" Kenshin mused.

"You dare to speak of our sacred emperor in such a fashion?" Aoshi said, looking at him with a gloomy glare.

Kenshin almost snorted. No matter the opinion he took, his somber brother always seemed to support the opposite view. He'd believed that Aoshi contradicted him just by petty antagonism, but it may well be that his brother's nature was that much different from his own. They may have the same father, but their mothers couldn't have been more different, if he were to believe the servants' gossips he'd gathered when he was younger.

"The rumors about this supposedly sacred emperor were not flattering, you know this as well as I," Kenshin said, shrugging. "The man may be a randy skirt chaser, but with proper counseling he may be able to appease the dissatisfaction of the samurai class. It is not too late yet to change course."

"He is intelligent, I'll give him that," Hiko said, "but too naïve for his own good, blinded by his own idealism. I fear he won't heed any sensible advice."

"Father!" Aoshi jumped from the wall where he was leaning.

"Peace," Hiko said, without raising his voice. He didn't need to. "Are we prissy courtiers? Let us speak frankly between us."

Aoshi frowned. "Very well," he said. He sat down too, facing Kenshin. "Then let me be frank and say this: the emperor may have failings as a human being, but as long as he sits on the imperial throne, he is still our lord by divine right."

"But how much will he be able to sit on it? That is the question, dear brother," Kenshin said, allowing the slightest hint of irony in his voice.

Aoshi darkened further, if it was even possible. "What you are suggesting threads dangerously close to treason."

"But he is right nonetheless," Hiko said. "Our emperor may not hold on his throne much longer, I fear. I caught wind today of complex plotting going on in the court. There is discontentment, even in the imperial district."

Kenshin frowned. Hiko didn't discuss political matters with his sons usually. "Father, why are you telling us this?" he said suspiciously. "Did you not decide already to throw our lot with the emperor?"

Hiko looked both his sons in the eyes, each in turn. "It is time you take full measure of what is happening in this country. You are both grown men, and I am treating you as such," he said gravely. "You, Kenshin, are about to become a married man. Your turn will come also, Aoshi."

Aoshi screwed up his eyes. "Do you have a woman in mind already, father?"

"Not yet, but I am making arrangement. Our family needs all the political support it can get."

Kenshin allowed himself a private smile. He pitied the poor woman who would end up with his brother. Aoshi's heart was as warm as the ice on mount Fuji in the dead of winter. Then he remembered his own future wife, and his smile died down.

"Where is Saitou," he said with irritation. "He should be here already."

"Don't fret," Hiko said with a smirk. "Nothing will happen to your precious bride if Saitou's guarding her."

Kenshin had to restrain himself. "How can you be so unconcerned about this? You were the one who arranged this union, not me."

"I am not unconcerned," Hiko said soberly. "What you told me about this Houji is a worrisome development."

"I say we strike him down as soon as we can," Kenshin said.

"I agree with you for once," Aoshi said. "A threat must be dealt with at once, else it sours."

Kenshin looked at his older brother, stupefied. Aoshi, agreeing with him? That hadn't happened since…. In fact he couldn't remember the last time they agreed on something. Was his brother afflicted with some terminal illness, or did he eat spoiled food, or….

Kenshin gave himself a little mental shake, trying to recollect the train of his thoughts. "Maybe we could raid his house tonight," he proposed. He was aching for some action. He couldn't allow someone to plot the demise of his future wife. That was an insult to him and his honor, if nothing else.

"I won't allow it," his father said sternly.

"Why not?" Kenshin exclaimed, half-rising.

"You want to assault your future wife's uncle before even the wedding? Let me tell you this from my vast experience, Kenshin: this is not a good way to start a marriage."

"But he's trying to have her killed."

"Even so. And don't forget Houji's too close to Ashikaga. We can't touch him without risking the enmity of the general."

"Ashikaga is up to no good," Kenshin mumbled. "I think the country would be better off without him. He's preparing something, I can feel it. He already betrayed his former masters, remember. He must have thought the emperor would reintroduce the military governance, with him as the shogun. Once a traitor, always a traitor."

"Yes," Aoshi said, "but it's not only him. The whole samurai class is grumbling about the return to the old ways. As a matter of fact general Ashikaga has been pleading with our emperor to do something about it."

"He was pleading for the return of the shogunate, with him at its head, no doubt," Kenshin said.

"Probably," Hiko acknowledged. "But in any case nothing is to happen to Houji for the moment, do I make myself clear, Kenshin?"

Kenshin glared at his father.

"I understand your desire to do something about it," Hiko said sternly. "But we must wait for the right opportunity."

Kenshin was about to press the issue further, when the shoji door slid open. Saitou appeared in the doorframe.

Kenshin sprang to his feet. "Where is she," he asked, without any preamble.

"Aren't we eager," Saitou sneered. "Calm down," he added before Kenshin could protest. "I tracked her down. She went straight to her uncle's house when she came to Kyoto."

"Houji," Kenshin hissed. He was already out in the corridor when Saitou grabbed his arm.

"Don't be so hasty," Saitou said. "She's not there anymore. They brought her to a mountain house outside the city tonight."

"Show me," Kenshin said. Hiko and Aoshi were watching both of them with interest, but neither intervened

"Don't forget your promise," Saitou said simply, without the expected taunting.

"I won't."

"Follow me, then."

A new voice chirped in suddenly. "Wait for me, samurai-san!"

Soujiro. Kenshin'd almost forgotten about him. "Where have you been," he asked the boy.

"Tomoe-san has been good enough to let me take a bath." Soujiro said. "Now I'm clean and ready to go."

Kenshin grunted. He had to admit he was getting used to the smiling young man. "Just don't slow me down," he said, and then he followed after Saitou.

* * *

Houji was finishing reading the letter in his hand when he heard the door slide open. 

"The girl's at the house, as you wanted," Usui's voice announced, entering.

"Good," Houji said. "Now go prepare yourself. We are leaving tomorrow."

"Leaving? Where to?"

Houji showed the letter to Usui. "The general Ashikaga tells me he will be going to Kamakura. Hojo Tokiyuki is starting rebellion there, and the general is going to put it down. I will be accompanying him."

"I see," Usui said. "And what about the girl?"

Houji clutched the letter harder, not answering.

"Why are you hesitating?"

"That's none of your business," Houji snarled.

Usui approached his face to Houji's. "You already sent men to kill her before she could come here. Why are you reluctant now?"

"What are you trying to say?" Houji said angrily.

"Only this: I may be blind, but my Heart's Eye reads in you like an open book." Usui chuckled. "You wanted to kill her, but you let your resolve weaken when you saw her. Correct?" Houji didn't reply. Usui continued on. "She reminded you too much of her mother, and you couldn't bring yourself to see her dead. You let your sentiments go in the way of what needs be done—"

"Enough!" Houji shouted. "Enough." His voice dipped lower. "Very well." He looked straight at Usui, even though the blind man couldn't truly see him. "Have her killed," he snapped. "And bring back Chou and Katamari. They'll be accompaning us to Kamakura."

A smile slowly rose to Usui's lips. "It shall be done," he said. With that he went.

Houji ground his teeth. He burned the letter with a candle's fire, watching the yellow paper wane in smoke. Through the window, he could see Usui walking into the empty street, and off into the night. "Forgive me, Kami-sama," he said.


	15. Life and death

**A/N: **Finally got back to writing, after God knows how many hours spent trying to get rid of this sneaky trojan….

I changed chapter 14's ending slightly. It was too soon for Usui and company to die….

Anyway a big thanks to all of you who left feedback, it's a great moral support. Forgive me if I'm not answering each review, I'm trying very hard to resist the temptation here, even thought I don't really know why. Everyone seems to be doing it anyway….

lolopopoki: I hope you're okay. I saw some pictures of the hurricane on TV, and it looked nasty, even though they say it was weaker than expected.

* * *

Kaoru tossed in her futon. She took a long breath, shifted into a more comfortable position to lie in, and stilled herself. She tried to clear her mind of all agitation, willed herself into sleep. Seconds passed, that became minutes. In the same room, Megumi was sound asleep since some time, if Kaoru were to judge by her maid's even and deep breathing. Outside, an eerie silence reigned. More minutes passed. 

She sighed heavily. Sleep eluded her, no matter what she did. She was too anxious to sleep, a thousand thoughts whirling through her mind. She thought of her father, imagining the harrowed state he must have been in; of her coming wedding, that she hoped to avoid; and of uncle Houji, on whom all her hopes rested on. She opened her eyes. The moon must have been still young in the night sky, and it's pale light filtered through the shoji, projecting dim squares on the walls, on the tatami, on her blanket.

A small sound, somewhere. Kaoru rose on one elbow, pricked up her ears. Would Chou or Katamari still be awake at this late hour? Or maybe it was a wild animal. A stray dog, or worse, a bear? No, there could be no bear this close to Kyoto. She waited, the silence heavier as time passed. Nothing.

She rubbed a hand on her face. What was she doing? Ridiculous, to be so disquieted by some trivial noise. A sudden gust of wind that had rustled some branches, nothing more. She must have been more nervous than she thought. The stress of the last days was still weighting on her, surely, but no one could blame her, she thought, given the circumstances. She lay down on her futon again.

There, the same sound again. Still faint, but seemingly closer this time. Kaoru sat up. That definitely hadn't been her restless mind playing tricks with her, she was certain of it. She listened attentively, her whole body tensing as she waited. She dared make any sound, and her hands grabbed her bed sheet before she even realized she was doing so. She tried to relax, but remained vigilant still.

The sound came again, very close. Something was wrong here, her instincts told her. It wasn't just her nervousness. Carefully, she put aside the bed sheets, rose, and walked to Megumi's bedside, while keeping an eye on the shoji. She could see nothing through it but the moonlight and shadows of pillars and trees and branches.

"Megumi," Kaoru whispered, shaking gently her maid's shoulder. "Wake up, Megumi."

Megumi groaned in protest, stirring, but not waking.

Kaoru shook her again. "Megumi," she whispered more urgently. Maybe she should have felt guilty pulling Megumi out of her sleep, but she cared not.

Megumi's eyes fluttered open tentatively, letting out a low mumble. "What is it, my lady?" she said.

Kaoru laid a finger on her own lips, shushing her maid. "Megumi," she said as quietly as she could, "do you hear anything?"

"Well yes, I hear you waking me up in the dead of the night."

"Not that! Here, be quiet."

They waited, both still. There was nothing to be heard outside.

"You are imagining things, my lady," Megumi said, her lids half-closed already. "Please, let me have my rest."

Kaoru sighed. "It isn't my imagination, Megumi."

"My lady—"

"I tell you it isn't—"

Kaoru heard the sound again, this time seemingly at her doorstep. She turned to look, but there was nothing out of the ordinary through the rice screens.

"You heard that, didn't you?" Kaoru asked.

"Yes, I heard," Megumi whispered. "Maybe just the servants. You are worrying for nothing, my lady."

"What are you saying," Kaoru protested. Her instincts couldn't be wrong. Her eyes roamed across the room, searching for her katana. It was on the other side, near the drawer. She cursed silently, something she never did, and began to crawl to it.

A small shadow appeared through the shoji. Kaoru eyed it, all her muscles ready to spring.

A meow.

A cat. Nothing more. Kaoru let out the breath she wasn't even aware of holding. She could have laughed then, but she didn't. She feared that it would be quite hysterical, if she let it out. She looked at Megumi. Her maid gave her a shrug, as if to say: see, I told you so.

A cat. Kaoru hadn't any cat in the house earlier. Maybe it was Katamari's pet? She couldn't envision Chou with a one. Or maybe it was just a stray cat.

"Now can I go back to sleep, my lady?" Megumi murmured, some bite in her tone. Her maid was always grumpy when you woke her like that.

"Yes, Megumi. Excuse me for waking you, it's just that I'm edgy."

"Try to get some rest, my lady," Megumi said, turning in her futon. "Good night."

Kaoru slipped beneath her blanket. "Good night, Megumi." She closed her eyes. Her body was tired, but her mind was much too excited. It had been like that for two nights in a row. She willed her mind blank. A vision of herself as lady Himura popped in her head. She might have been young, but she wasn't entirely ignorant of what happened between a man and a woman. She imagined her husband as a fat bald man, his greasy paws all over her body, in her most intimate places, taking advantage of her. And she would be utterly helpless to prevent it.

Never. She would kill herself before that could happen.

Calm yourself, she thought. Calm. She forced those unpleasant images out of her mind. All was silent again outside. Megumi was already sound asleep, it seemed. Kaoru was envious of her right now. Her maid always had that unerring ability to find sleep whatever the conditions. She wished she could do the same. Minutes passed, or at least she thought it was minutes, but to her it seemed like hours. Maybe she could count sheep? She'd heard it could work against insomnia, but it sounded too boring to try.

The shoji opened.

At first, she thought that maybe Katamari had come to check on her. Not an unusual thing to do. Servants did that all the time, back in her family estate, to see if her blanket was correctly put, if the chamber was too cold or too hot, or any other little detail. She turned in her futon to take a look at the room's entrance.

And saw several men, clad in black ninja outfits, outlined against the moon. Thieves? The only thing that saved her was the all too recognizable glint of a blade in the moonlight. She rolled out of her futon, by pure instinct. Just in time. A dagger was already buried to the hilt in the mattress where she'd been.

"Wake up, Megumi!" she shouted. She scrambled towards her katana. Behind her, she could hear the men rush after her.

A step, two steps. Her katana was at arm's range. She lunged towards it, grabbing her weapon, and immediately rolled on her back. A blade passed less than an inch from her head, taking with it wisps of hairs, its sound louder than that of a windmill in her ear. There were three of them. No, four. She drew her katana. A second blade was already coming down on her.

She blocked it with her blade half-drawn. Her weapon vibrated wildly in her hand under the strength of the attack. She was at great disadvantage, lying on the tatami the way she was. Another blade descended. She blocked it again, her katana fully out of its scabbard this time.

Kaoru gritted her teeth. She wouldn't last long like that. Taking aim of the closest assailant's ankle, she kicked it as strongly as she could. She heard a muted groan above her. She immediately rolled on the side, taking advantage of her aggressor's temporary loss of concentration, and was able to get on her knees before another man was on her. She defended, but this time the attack came so fast she almost missed it. The assailant's blade slid against hers, the contact louder than a serpent's hiss, and only her katana's guard stopped it. Even so, it was all she could to contain the attack, her arms quivering against the man's strength.

Something came back to her mind, a move she'd seen Shinta pull off on the road. She swung the scabbard still in her left hand against the man's knee. She took him by surprise, and could distinctly hear bones cracking. The sound gave her a savage satisfaction. Her mind blank save for the need of battle, she thrust into the man's body. Felt her sword slip between ribs. He slumped down, his limbs lifeless, his katana falling on the floor. This one wouldn't be a problem anymore.

She rose to her feet, panting, sweat coming on her brow. She was aware of her state, her nightgown very loose about her, but decency was the last thing on her mind right now.

"Chou!" she screamed. "Where are you, Chou?" Where was he? She held her katana in front of her with her two hands, defying the remaining three men.

Her raised blade and the sight of their companion sprawling on the ground must have made them hesitate, for they circled her carefully. All of them were after her, she saw. None of them were preoccupied with Megumi, who was only beginning to stir awake. The men were assassins, she realized. Her hands trembled unconsciously before she could steady them. They must have been sent here to kill her. She wondered briefly who could have sent them, but she discarded that thought. It would wait for later.

She observed the three of them, noting the fluid way they moved on the tatami, so stealthy in their dark clothing they were almost one with the surrounding shadows, their faces hidden save for smalls opening for their eyes, and even those were unreadable in the dark. She was confident in her skills, but against three trained killers, she knew it was only a matter of time before she succumbed, if no help were to come. She was young yet, and she didn't want to die. What was Chou doing? All she could do was to buy time, and to wait for the swordsman to come to her aid. And pray that he would be sufficient to the task.

"Chou," she called again. No answer. "Chou!" Surely a swordsman like him would be able to sense the danger and the fighting going on, to say nothing of the sounds of swords clashing? She watched the three men spread around her.

"My lady!" Megumi shouted, fully awake now, taking in the scene before her. Her lids dilated with disbelief, and fear.

One of the men lunged forwards, the shortest one, a faint glint traveling the length of his blade as he thrust towards Kaoru. She turned it away with her blade. How, she didn't know. Her body was reacting of its own, all her father's training coming back to her. But it didn't matter. As the man's body came nearer, carried by its momentum, she saw an opening. Her katana still against his, she brought the hilt forward, and hit the man hard on his jaw.

But she didn't have the time to savor this small victory. She heard at the last moment another assassin come at her behind her back, and twisted her body in extremis. Still the blade grazed her, and she felt an intense pain burn her left flank. She winced.

"My lady!" Megumi called again.

The third killer, a silhouette slightly bulkier than the others, was coming at her fast, but her maid flung herself to the man's back, stopping him in his tracks. He grunted, and elbowed Megumi off his back. Her maid fell against the wall, letting out a small scream.

"Megumi!" Kaoru said. She raged to punish the man for hitting Megumi, but she had her hands full already. She was trading sword-blows with an assassin, and losing ground, while the man she'd hit in the jaw was recovering. The situation looked desperate.

The third man came again at her. The strength of the onslaught threw her against the wall. Panic was rising in her now. "Chou!" she called on top of her lungs.

"My lady, you must flee!" Megumi shouted. She flung herself on the bulky assassin again. "Flee!"

"Get off me, little pest," the killer said, his voice managing to be hoarse and shrill at the same time.

The man reached an arm behind him, grabbed her maid. And slashed. Megumi screamed. The sound resonated in the night air. Kaoru watched in horror as the man tossed Megumi away like a ragged doll, a gash visible on Megumi's body even in the dim moonlight. And she had been entirely powerless to defend her maid, her friend.

"Flee," Megumi said once more, her voice very weak this time. So faint.

Flee. Her dream came back to Kaoru. Flee, her mother had said. Flee. "No," she whispered, but in truth she had no idea what she was saying anymore. "No!" Her mind was in turmoil. She couldn't think.

The shorter man slashed at her, but she couldn't see clearly, couldn't focus. She raised her katana to protect herself, but it was no use. She felt something sharp bite into her arm. A yelp. She realized it was her own. The sudden pain made her let go of her weapon.

"Flee," her maid said, and somehow she had her mother's voice, her mother's face. Flee.

Chou wasn't going to come to help her, she understood, at least not in time. Nobody was going to come. It was all hopeless. Kaoru's valid arm shot towards the shorter man's windpipe, as if it had a life of its own. It surprised the assassin. It gave her an opening. _Flee. _

She fled. She didn't even notice her own tears until some time later.

* * *

They'd come across three travelers earlier, on the road, not far from Kyoto's gates. A peculiar bunch. A blind man, and a broomhead. The last one looked like a woman, but Kenshin'd been sure it was a man. The blind one had been the lady Kaoru's escort to the mountain house, Saitou'd said later. Kenshin'd asked Soujiro if he knew the man, but Soujiro had denied. Never saw him with Houji, Soujiro said. With a smile, of course, but there had been a slight hesitation in it. Kenshin decided to keep a closer eye on Soujiro. He might be overly paranoid, but the boy's reason for following him was entirely unclear, after all. 

They made good pace on the mountain road. Soujiro was humming besides him, while Saitou remained silent. The moon was dull behind wisps of clouds.

"We're close," Saitou announced.

A scream suddenly pierced through the night, close by. That of a woman. Kenshin tensed.

"Let's hurry," he said, starting to run. The house came into view.

Had been that lady Kaoru's scream? He couldn't tell, but he felt panic rising nevertheless. Something was definitely afoot, and there was no other habitation that he could see. He prayed he wouldn't be too late. Kenshin saw someone—a woman—run out of the house, three figures hot on her steps. He couldn't see who the woman was, or who her pursuers were. He swore.

"You two check the house," he said. With that he dashed towards the woman, before Saitou could protest.

* * *

Kaoru ran, and ran, as fast as she could, through the dark. What had been a lovely garden before seemed more and more like a dreary graveyard where trees, stones, or bushes all stood dead. _Flee_. Gravels stung the sole of her naked feet, to say nothing of the cold, and the odd branches whipped against her shoulders as she passed them by, stirring sharp burn in her wounded arm. But she was oddly insensitive to all this, and the pain seemed to come from a place far away. She ran, her chest heaving, her own ragged breaths sounding strangely alien in her ears. _Flee_. Dimly she was aware of footsteps following her, boots thumping the ground with military precision. They were gaining ground. 

Left, between two naked cherry trees. The cobblestones were slippery and chilly, and her feet landed on them with the small clicks of gravels that had stuck in her soles against the polished stones. She could hardly anything, but she went on. The sky overhead would have been indiscernible from the dark trees, she realized, if not for the stars. _Flee. _Sweat covered her body, despite the cold.

She came upon the pond, small ripples marring the surface. She ran alongside it, followed its gentle curve. She heard loud noise of water splashing behind her. One of the men must have taken a shortcut through the shallow pond. She wanted to run faster, but couldn't find the sparkle of energy to do it. She plunged into the bushes, the thin branches tearing her nightdress, lashing her skin.

Her feet met some resistance. A root, probably, that she hadn't seen, she thought inconsequentially as she fell with a small yawp. Her body landed clumsily on the dirty soil. She tried to crawl back on her feet, but something clamped on her ankles. A pair of hands. She looked behind her back. And saw a shadow, then two, then three, ghastly ghosts against the night's somber cloth, looming tall over her. So very tall. A naked blade rose over her, gleaming, a lone lodestone of light amidst the darkness.

Kaoru became conscious of trembling, of her heart pounding so hard in her ears. She'd somehow suppressed her fear earlier, but now it rushing in her body, suddenly submerging her. Someone save me, she pleaded silently with the energy of desperation. Kaoru saw the sword dive down. Someone, anyone. She shut her eyes tight, waiting for the sword to slash into her flesh.

It didn't come. Instead, she heard a clang, followed by a grunt, and the characteristic sound of a sword cutting through the air. And then, warm liquid landing on her skin. She opened her lids.

Saw a bright-haired man, standing back to her. Not one of her attackers. Where were they? She sat up slightly, glanced around. Three bodies lay on the ground in a pool of blood.

The man turned to her, sheathing his katana. Knelt in front of her. She didn't recognize him immediately, in her daze. Only heard his words. "I am here," he was saying. "You have nothing to fear now. I'm here."

She looked at his face, not daring to breath, transfixed. He didn't seem to mean harm. He'd killed her assailants, she understood, saved her. She took in his ruffled hair, his gilded eyes fading into a darker color, his blood-tainted cheek, his blood-smeared hand. She thought she had never seen anything so beautiful before. A dam seemed to break in her. Gratitude welled in her chest, and with in its wake, grief. Tears came unbidden to her. She was crying, she realized.

"It's all right," the man said again. "It's me, Shinta. You are safe now, my lady."

Shinta. Shinta was here. Her body jerked uncontrollably with sobs. She threw herself against his chest. "Shinta. You came, Shinta."

His arms came around her, pulling her closer, gently. "Shh," he said. "Shh."

Kaoru only cried harder. She couldn't stop herself. Her emotions were like a torrent, washing all over her. "I was so afraid," she said between sobs. "So afraid. They—They were going to kill me."

"No one will harm you," Shinta said. "I will protect you."

"I—I killed a man tonight. And—Megumi. They killed her. They—" Megumi. She couldn't continue anymore.

Shinta's hands caressed her hair, as if she was a baby. "Shh. Don't say anything. Just cry. It'll make you feel better. Just cry."

So she cried, pouring out all the tears she had in her body, and more, her nose against his chest, for a long, long time. Overhead the moon wasn't young anymore.


	16. Gratitude, and what comes with it

"Megumi!" Kaoru called.

Soujiro and a man she didn't recognize were laying Megumi in a makeshift stretcher, she saw. Kaoru walked to them, one arm taking support on Shinta's shoulders. The ugly slash on her maid's belly had been hastily bandaged, but the cloth was already soaked with blood. Megumi looked peaceful, her eyes closed, but Kaoru couldn't see any movement in her body. Kaoru dared not hope.

"Megumi," she said, laying a hand on her maid's arm. It was warm under her touch, she noted with relief.

Megumi opened feebly her eyes. "My lady…," she said.

Kaoru threw herself on her maid's neck, hugging her tight. "You are alive," she cried. "Oh Megumi, thank the gods. You are alive." She felt tears come to her eyes, when she thought there wasn't any drop of tear left in her body anymore.

"I am… just glad… you are fine," Megumi murmured. "My… life doesn't… matter,"

"What are you saying!" Kaoru whispered fiercely between two sobs. "You can't die, do you hear me? You can't die. Why did you have to throw yourself on the man? That was stupid, irresponsible, dumb—"

"It is my… duty to… protect you," Megumi said. "I will die… happily if I can… save you."

"You idiot!" Kaoru said. "Don't do that again. Never again. I won't have you die on me, do you hear?" She hugged Megumi tighter.

"Lady," said a voice she didn't recognize. It must have been the tall man. Kaoru glanced up. There was a sense of familiarity about him somehow, as if she'd already seen him before, but she couldn't put her finger on it. He looked feral, not someone she would trust at first sight. "Lady," the man said again, "your friend's not out of danger yet. You'll choke the life out of her, if you continue to squeeze her like that."

"Oh." Kaoru let go of her maid with some reluctance.

"What happened?" Shinta asked. He had been silent up until now.

"No idea, samurai-san," Soujiro said. "Megumi-san was already wounded when we found her." He still harbored his usual smile, but it was faint.

"She… she tried to stop an assassin," Kaoru explained, shaking her head. "I was fighting against them, and then Megumi…." She found she couldn't continue anymore.

"Oh, so that explains the dead body in the room," Soujiro said. "You did quite well against so many men, my lady. In any case, Saitou-san tried to bandage her wound, but it looks quite serious. We thought it would be better if we carried her to Kyoto. There's an excellent doctor there, I'm sure he'll take good care of Megumi-san."

"Yes, good idea," Shinta said. "Go ahead. We will be following."

"But it's going to worsen her wound!" Kaoru protested. "What if—"

"Don't worry about it, lady," said the man Soujiro had named Saitou. "We'll handle her with care. But we'll have to make haste if we want to save her. It's not like there's any other choice. Her state will worsen if we simply leave her here."

Kaoru made to protest again, then stopped herself. He had a point. Still she couldn't prevent herself from thinking about the risks.

A hand landed on her shoulder. She looked back. "If Saitou says so, then he must be right," Shinta said. She nodded.

"We'll be going then," Soujiro said. They lifted the stretcher. "We'll be as quick as we can."

Kaoru heard Saitou mumble something. She thought she heard him say "…making me go through all this trouble…," but it was too indistinct to be sure. She watched them set off into the night, then disappear from her sight. Silently, she sent a prayer for Megumi.

"We should be going as well, my lady," Shinta said behind her. She turned to him. He smiled. "But let us tend to your wounds first." With a swift motion, he swooped her in his arms, before she could react.

She stared at him. "What are you doing, sir Shinta?"

He glanced down at her. "You are limping, my lady. Easier if I carried you, don't you think?"

She sighed, even smiled a little. She would suffer this small indignity. He'd saved her life, after all. She could indulge him anything at this moment, she thought, if he but asked.

* * *

Kaoru was comfortable, straddled on Shinta's back, her arms hanging around his slender neck, her head resting in the crook of his shoulder. His skin was warm against hers despite the chilly temperature, and his ponytail flowed freely behind him, tickling her cheek, teasing her back. Her own ponytail was gone, her ribbon having fallen probably during the fight.

Around them the night's shadows were deep, and she couldn't distinguish much of the road they were upon. On the other hand, Shinta could, or so it seemed.

Fall and rise, fall and rise. The even cradling of his steps, the steady heaving of her chest. The motion was making her lids heavy. Her wounds had been bandaged, their burning dimmed, and the throbbing in her left ankle was now a dull afterthought. The earlier excitement had settled down in her mind, leaving her strangely languid, on the verge of sinking into sleep. The only thing that kept her awake was her gnawing worry for Megumi.

"She is going to live, isn't she, Shinta?" she said quietly.

He only shrugged, a movement that heaved her head. "I can't give you any guarantee," he said. How could he be so cold at a time like this? "Only the gods can know for certain. We've done everything we can for her. Let us just hope that Soujiro and Saitou will make it in time."

Kaoru sighed, so close to him that she could feel the warmth of her own breath. She'd been so relieved to see Megumi still alive. But her maid had lost much blood. A rough motion startled her. Shinta had tripped on something, apparently. "Hey, pay attention to the road," she scolded heartily.

"I'm doing what I can," Shinta said. "It's pretty dark out there, in case you didn't notice."

"Really." She was inexplicably comfortable. His musky scent was doing strange things to her; she thought his proximity made her heart weak, sent tingles running on her skin; she yearned for it. He was so close, and she felt an irrational urge to kiss his cheek. She fought against it, hard. She needed a distraction.

"You were putting up fine with the darkness up to now," she said. "I don't think it's giving you too much trouble."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Hmm." She hummed a moment against him. She felt like teasing him. "Well, I think you are too busy feeling my legs to pay attention to the—"

He missed a step, before regaining his balance. A strand of his hair flew on her nose. His hair smelled of olives, she decided. He cleared his throat. "Well, excuse me for 'feeling' your legs. It's not my fault if you sprained your ankle. It is not like I particularly enjoy carrying you on my back."

She pouted, even if he couldn't see her. "You don't enjoy it? Are you sure of this?" She breathed into his ears, made her voice as husky as she could. "Are you… really… sure?" She was enjoying this.

"My lady…." His voice was hoarse. She smiled, glad that he couldn't see it. A victory for her.

"A jest, sir Shinta," she reassured him. "I am… really grateful for what you did, and still do now. You have my eternal gratitude." She swore to herself that once she could go back to her normal life, she would assure herself that Shinta wouldn't be lacking in anything. Maybe she could get her father to offer him wealth, and a piece of land. Yes, that would do nicely.

"I only did my duty as a samurai," Shinta said.

"You have done more than that. Much more. You have no duty towards me. Yet without you the Himuras would have killed me."

"The Himuras?" he asked, his tone even. There was a slight hesitation in his steps, before he resumed his walk.

Kaoru blinked, before realizing that he might not know the Himura clan's symbol. "You must have noticed the nine-headed dragon insignia the assassins all had on their backs? It's the sign that they are the lord of Ise's men."

"I see," he murmured. He seemed to ponder for a moment. "Now I am curious. Is there any reason the lord to would wish your death? You seemed to be accumulating powerful lords' grudges."

Kaoru remained silent. Oh, she was tempted to tell the truth. She was tired, tired to have to lie, especially to someone who just saved her from Death's jaws. Her instincts told her that she could trust Shinta. She _wanted_ to trust him. She liked him already. No, more than that, if she were to be honest with herself. She was developing a deep affection for him. Startling, given the short time they'd known each other.

Despite her tiredness, she was still lucid enough to recognize that part of it came from the boundless gratitude she felt, but it didn't really matter. Her emotions were what they were, and that was that. Maybe, in another circumstances, she would have been content to wed him, she thought. For once she cursed her bloodline. Noble women were denied the possibility of love matches. She had always known it, and never been bitter about it. She understood well the necessity of house politics. The price to pay for a privileged life.

But at this instant, how she wished she could be no more than a simple artisan's daughter, free of weighty chains, free to follow her heart. Maybe she would have tried to seduce Shinta then, despite his apparent coldness and his insolence. Not that she loved him. Of course not. But she had to admit he was attractive, and life with him would be pleasant. If only.

Then again, Kaoru the artisan's daughter wouldn't have met him either. She sighed.

"Something preoccupies you, my lady?" Shinta asked.

"Megumi," she lied. Well, not really a lie. She _was_preoccupied by Megumi's well-being, very much so. "I'm worried about her." She closed her eyes, savored the night breeze on her face. "It's all my fault she went through this," she muttered. "I shouldn't have made her leave Izushi in the first place."

Shinta turned his head towards hers. Was there a smile on his face? "I thought you had to flee Izushi because of its lord's appetite for lady Megumi?" he said. "How would you be responsible?"

She didn't answer. She was being entirely careless, and couldn't have cared less. She looked at his cheek again. So close. She just had to lean her head forwards slightly. She felt foolish, and drowsy, and lightheaded. She wanted to let go of the deceit and of the decorum. She wanted to be free for once, to follow her heart. An owl hooted overhead, somewhere in the sky.

She tilted her head, and kissed Shinta's cheek. Ever so slightly.

He startled. "My lady—"

"Shh," she murmured in his ears. "Don't say anything."

He turned his head away. Was he hiding his face from her? She couldn't know. It was very dark, in any case. "My lady, you are still under great shock," he said.

"Probably. So?"

"So… you are not in your normal state."

"I'm well aware of that," she said. She kissed him again, this time where his lower jaw stopped, protruding slightly just below his ear. She could get used to this. "I just wanted to do it," she murmured. "Blame it on my shock, if it suits you, my dear guardian spirit."

"My lady—"

"Do you deny it? How else would you have found me when I was in need?"

Shinta was some time before answering. He _was_ her guardian spirit. She'd thought they would have definitely parted way in Kyoto, never to see each other again. Two strangers, thrown together by the hazards of a journey, for a little while. Yet he was here, with her, at this very moment.

"I… asked Saitou to keep an eye on you, my lady," he said at last. "I was… worried about you."

"Worried?" she asked. "Why so? Did you somehow feel I was in danger?" Foolish, but wasn't it such a romantic idea?

Shinta's steps faltered for a moment, briefly. "Soujiro told me certain things," he said, "that led me to fear for your well-being in Kyoto, my lady."

Oh. So no unearthly link pulling two beings together. No Fate reuniting them. What was with her? Silly of her to even contemplate those things. She almost giggled. Then she wondered what was stopping her.

She giggled.

"Did I say something amusing, my lady?" Shinta didn't sound particularly vexed. If anything, she would be tempted to say that he was in a good mood. He was being really kind with her, much more than usual.

"No," she said. She gave his shoulder a familiar pat. "A thought just occurred to me. Women's things. You wouldn't understand, sir Shinta. Say, can I just call you Shinta? Sir Shinta sounds so formal."

She heard a small sound coming from Shinta. A chuckle. Definitely a chuckle. She laughed.

"If you wish, my lady," he said.

"And you could me Kaoru."

"My lady—"

"Kaoru. It's Kaoru," she whispered in his ear. "Here, try to say it."

"My—Kaoru."

"See, that wasn't so painful, was it? " She laughed again. "So, Shinta," she drawled, savoring his name on her tongue, "is this Saitou a friend of yours? He looks quite fearsome, I must say."

"Not really a friend," he said. "Just… an acquaintance of mine."

"Oh? You seem to trust him very much, for a simple acquaintance." A thought occurred to her. Now she remembered where she'd seen him. "Come to think of it, I remember bumping into him the day I arrived in Kyoto. Not a coincidence then, isn't it?"

"No. He and I may not be on the most friendly terms, but… I know that he is reliable. You can trust him to do all he can to save the lady Megumi, my lady… Kaoru."

"I see." She sobered somewhat at the mention of her maid. She couldn't deny the anxiety in her. It was with her, insidious, no matter how hard she tried to push it aside. She knew she would never forgive herself if Megumi died. She shouldn't have brought Megumi into her problems, Kaoru thought. She shouldn't have dragged her in Kyoto.

"By the way," Kaoru said, "what did Soujiro tell you?"

"My lady?"

"You said he told you something that made you fear for me. What did he say?"

"Oh." Shinta paused, as if searching for words. "Let us not talk about that for now," he said finally. "There will be time for this later, when you have rested enough."

She didn't insist, didn't feel the strength to do so. He said he would tell her later. That was good enough for now. The moon was almost clear of clouds in the sky, the last strands slowly drifting away. It shone bright, casting its silver light all around them, on the road ahead, on the forest in the valley below. _She _shone bright. Kaoru liked to think of the moon as a woman. Didn't she watch over all women, wherever they were? Maybe it was she who guided Shinta to her, Kaoru thought.

"Say, Shinta," she whispered, "Megumi is going to be fine, isn't she?"

Fall, then rise. Fall, and rise. She didn't really expect an answer from him.

"She'll be fine," he said.

She felt her chest swell. She laid her lips against his neck, brushing them against his smooth skin. Kissed him for the third time, her mouth lingering this once. He didn't react, didn't jolt. In the distance, Kyoto loomed larger, its lights flickering through the night. Kaoru closed her eyes. The chill air couldn't quell the warmth in her heart.


	17. The morning after, take three

She was flying. Flying over glimmering dolphins, flying beside alabaster albatrosses across the sea, its liquid abalone hue expending beyond her sight. Up the mountains to their peaks, past mountain goats and brown bears, the pure white of the snow blinding under the sun; down the mountains, past rustling cedars and birches, to the verdant valley of liquid evergreen where she kept company with deer and tigers for a time, before the sky broke asunder, and the thunderous boots of thousands of soldiers marching invaded the grounds in orderly ranks.

_Kaoru._

A gentle voice, calling to her, even as she rejoiced in her freedom, mourned the burning of once lush field below her. Calling, insistent. Luring her down inexorably. The air was muggy and heavy, and her head tipsy with the heady scent of musk. A hand reached to her, brought her back to earth.

"Kaoru," Shinta said with a radiant smile, standing on the edge of a rice field terrace. She landed softly in his arms, her hands clasping his neck. "Kaoru," he said again, with such love in his tone to make her heart melt, her wings flutter. "Kaoru." He kissed her.

Such glory, the divine touch of his mouth over hers. His tongue teased her lips, parting them, then insinuated itself in, daring explorer. She hugged him tight, leaned hard against him.

He fell back. Into the room.

He looked at her, lying there on a tatami of chameleon purple, and for a moment neither of them spoke. Then, with the suppleness of a cheetah, he twisted, turning her with him. The world turned upside down, and suddenly she was lying on the ground, his face hovering over hers, invading her whole vision.

She stared at him, inspired deeply, her lips parted. He took her them, hard, demanding. She responded despite her, or maybe of her own accord, wiggling against him, wilder and wilder. She was lacking air, and her lungs burned with urgency unknown. She was falling, falling. Falling.

His lips left hers, soon finding her skin again, tasting the underside of her jaw, then drifting down the skin of her neck, the hollow of her breasts….

"Samurai-san!" a voice yelled. They both glanced up. Soujiro leapt inside the room from the window. Outside the sky was a pale yellow. "Prepare yourself," he said.

Shinta's weight lifted from her body. Kaoru saw him dash to Soujiro, a sword suddenly in his hand, thrusting. Soujiro smirked, stepsided him with ease, and grabbed Shinta by his armpit with one hand. Gave a short crackle. Threw Shinta out the door with a flick of his wrist.

"Sayonara," Soujiro said.

Kaoru watched paralyzed as Shinta fell down the cliff, his silhouette fading before her eyes, becoming smaller and smaller, more and more insubstantial….

"Shinta!" she shouted. She sat up, an arm extended, vainly reaching for him. "Shinta!"

"My lady!"

Kaoru blinked. She was gazing into Shinta's face, right beside hers, his brow creased in worry. He was there. He was _there._

"Are you all right, my lady?"

"I'm… fine." Kaoru blinked again. She heard a persistent sound, somewhere outside. The streets' mumble. "I'm fine. Just a dream. I think." She brushed his cheek with her hand. He startled a little. "Just checking," she said smiling. "You are real."

Shinta frowned. "Of course I'm real." He looked puzzled.

She took in the room. It was rather modest, with grayish stains on the otherwise beige walls. The daylight poured dimly through the windows, basking Shinta's face in tides of shadows. Her gaze stopped on his mouth. The dream was still with her, although already fading. She remembered his lips devouring her, confident, assured of conquering her bastion. Only a pale illusion without substance, yet… thrilling even so. She wondered what the reality would be like. She leaned slightly forward.

"Something wrong on my face, my lady?"

Kaoru jolted back, her heart missing a beat. She hadn't been aware of what she was doing, what she was about to do. Not realized she'd been fixing his lips with the hunger of a starved prisoner. "No, nothing." She felt her cheek burn, and hoped that he wouldn't notice it. She fussed with her sheets, searching for a distraction.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"An inn," Shinta said.

"Oh." The flowery blanket was warm and downy in her hands, and even if drab blue splotched it in its corners, it still felt strangely out of place on the plain futon. She played with it. The kimono she had on the night before had been discarded. A quick glance told her it was beside her bed, neatly folded.

Instead she was simply in a white juban undergarment. It was too large for her, and it hung loosely on her shoulders. She wondered if Shinta had helped her out of her kimono. She flushed at the thought.

"Megumi," she recalled suddenly. How could she have forgotten her maid? "Do you where Megumi is? Do you know how she is doing? Did the doctor say anything? Will she—"

"Her condition is stable, or so the doctor said. She'd lost much blood, and needs rest."

Kaoru gripped her blanket. "But she will live, won't she?"

"Probably," Shinta said. "Her wound looks ugly, but it's a superficial one. She's been lucky."

Kaoru sighed, so relieved she thought she might cry. "I'm so glad. Where is she? I need to visit her." She wanted to see Megumi, to verify with her own eyes that her maid was out of danger. Not that she didn't trust Shinta, but she'd been frightened the night before. She wanted to set at Megumi's bedside, keeping her company.

Shinta shrugged, as if it was not of great importance, that Megumi's life had never been truly in danger, but by now Kaoru knew him enough to know that he wasn't really cold and unconcerned. He just held tight on his expressionless mask, she judged. Maybe she could help him get rid of this pesky habit, if she had time.

"She's unconscious, and won't be able to leave her bed for a few days, at the very least," he said. "The doctor doesn't recommend visits, else she may grow agitated."

Kaoru pouted in disappointment. "What does the doctor know," she said, aware of sounding foolish. "Oh well. Megumi can rest as long as she needs to. We're not going anywhere in any case."

"I wanted to talk to you about that," Shinta said.

She shot him a curious glance. What did he mean? But he simply waved his hand. "It will wait for later," he said. "First you need to refresh yourself. I will ask the innkeeper to draw water for you, if you wish."

She nodded.

A little while later, she made her way back into the room, feeling clean and relaxed after a long hot bath. Shinta was already eating his breakfast, and she joined him, kneeling by the table. She grabbed a pair of chopsticks, and began to attack the steamed rice heartily. The firm grain's perfumed flavor tasted nice in her mouth. She wasn't aware she was so hungry.

"My lady—" began Shinta.

"Kaoru," she said. Her mouth stretched into a smile on its own. "I thought we agreed on that last night." She remembered that part, and others, too. She had been bold last night, very much so, but she didn't feel any remorse. In truth she felt rather proud of herself. Maybe she should act a little wild more often, she thought. Not too much, though. She was a lady still.

Shinta opened his mouth, as if to say something, but held back whatever he had in mind. "Very well, Kaoru," he said instead. She beamed at him.

He didn't seem to see it. "I think you should leave Kyoto as soon as possible," he continued.

Kaoru looked at him, her uplifted mood subduing. "Excuse me? Didn't you say earlier that Megumi needs to rest for at least several days?"

"She is not the one who's in danger." Shinta frowned. "At least, not nearly in as much danger as you, my lady."

"How so?" Kaoru realized the stupidity of her remark as soon as it left her mouth. Of course she was in danger, she'd been targeted by the Himura's killers. There were four dead bodies near a mountain house to attest to that.

"Weren't you just attacked last night?" Shinta said, agreeing with her own thoughts. "They were specifically after you, I dare say. They all followed you outside. They cared nothing for the lady Megumi, which means that you were their specific target."

"I understand that." She nodded. "But we are in Kyoto now, aren't we?" Shinta nodded. "There's no much risk in the city I think," she said. "Besides, I have you to protect me." She smiled at him again, and he seemed to be embarrassed. "I will act, of course. I need to talk to my uncle as soon as possible. He'll—he'll know what to do about this. We need to present the fact to the imperial court, to denounce lord Himura before the emperor. Such crime needs to be punished. The Himura's villainy must be exposed." And, she added silently to herself, she would turn this to her advantage, and break her marriage for good this way.

Shinta smiled derisively. "You are a strange woman. Confronting a lord? Denounce him to the emperor? You are certainly brave," he said. A small pause. "But how would you even reach the imperial court, let alone the emperor's ear?"

Kaoru realized how presumptuous she must have sounded, for a supposed commoner. "My uncle had dealings with some influent lords in the past," she said quickly. "He may have some… influence with them." Maybe she really should tell him all the truth. But she held back, not daring. For one thing, she was sure that he would be more deferential if he learned her station, more distant. She didn't want the slow friendship—more than friendship, really—that was building between them ruined. But then again, Shinta seemed so impertinent he might not be fazed it.

Shinta sighed. "Even so, my lady—"

"Kaoru."

He gave a sharp shake of his head, as if to say that this was a trivial matter. "Even so, _Kaoru_, even if you could be heard inside the palace, then what?"

"Then what?" She looked at him, incredulous, her arm hanging in mid-air "Then I will present the proof of the assassination attempt, and unmask Himura for what he really is."

"You seem to have a grudge against lord Himura," Shinta said lightly. He continued without waiting for a reply. Not that she would have replied in any case. "What proofs do you have," he asked, "apart from dragons stitched into some clothes?"

"And is this not proof enough?" she said, her tone more acid than she would have liked. She didn't see where he wanted to go with this. She tried to calm herself down. "It clearly marks house Himura as the culprit, doesn't it?"

"A simple symbol? Any seamstress can sew a nine-headed dragon insignia. This is no proof at all, I fear."

"But—"

"What kind of assassin would bear the mark of his house on his garments anyway?" he continued relentlessly. "Why would display their allegiance so clearly? It would be stupid to do so."

"The Himuras aren't known for their transcendental intellect," she snickered, aware that she was acting childish. She thought she saw Shinta flinch. Maybe she was being too flippant for a mere commoner?

"One doesn't need great intelligence to realize it," Shinta said sternly. It was Kaoru's turn to flinch. Had she been just insulted? "If I were to look at it objectively," he continued, softening, "it looks more like someone tried to frame lord Himura."

What a ridiculous idea. Kaoru became aware that she was gaping at him. She closed her mouth with an audible snap, put down her bowl of rice. "Why—how would someone… framing lord Himura?" Good lord, she wasn't sounding coherent at all.

But at least Shinta seemed to have understood her perplexity. "I can't know the why," he said. "As to the how, maybe they'd intended to leave lady Megumi alive from the start, so she would spread the news. I don't know." He shrugged again, not overly troubled. Did he know something? For a common samurai, he seemed awfully defensive of the Himuras. A thought snaked to her. What if he was one of Himura's men, sent to spy on her? That would explain why he was sticking with her, why he'd clung to her despite her attempts to get rid of him on the road. But she discarded the idea as fast as it came. No, no, her imagination was playing tricks with her mind. Shinta wouldn't be that sort of men, she was sure. He was just worried about her.

Kaoru shook her head hard. "This… theory is just that. A theory. It is too twisted to be true."

Shinta pondered for a moment. Then he sighed. "Kaoru, I have something… unpleasant I must tell you."

His tone sent a nasty feeling in her stomach. He'd alluded to it earlier already, but she hadn't paid attention. She clenched her hands.

"The uncle you were speaking of, would he be named Houji by any chance?"

She couldn't stop the gasp that escaped her lips. "How—how did you know that?"

Shinta averted his gaze. He seemed almost timid, hesitant to continue. "Shinta, tell me," she whispered urgently. "How do you know my uncle's name? What does this means?"

"My lady…. I suspect the assassins were sent not by lord Himura, but by your uncle," he said.

"What?" her shout resonated over the huddled walls, its echo faint yet overbearing. Her chopsticks clattered on the tatami. Her hands clenched into fists, her nails stabbing into her palms. "How dare you accuse my uncle?"

"My lady, Soujiro… Soujiro isn't just a mere bandit," he said, his gaze still fleeing hers. "He… he was waiting for you. Your uncle ordered him to kill you, my lady."


	18. Trust and Betrayal

**A/n: **Hey, an update live from Paris, how cool is that? It must be late afternoon for you, but here it's almost three in the morning as I'm writing this (yeah, I've always been late sleeper.). Anyway it's really nice around here… as long as you're not too fat. I mean, what do they eat to remain this good-looking? I'm pretty lucky to be rather thin, but I've met plenty of American tourists already, and do they stand out with their two-three hundred pounds…. I went on the Champ Elysees on Sunday, saw Armstrong win his nth yellow jersey (the crowd was huge!). Yesterday night I went to an Australian bar in an area called "Le Marais" (the swamp). It was really fun, I had lots of beer, got wasted, and ended up in bed with a perfect stranger…. Nah just kidding (But I _was _kinda wasted though.).

Anyway, sorry for this longish rant, here be the eighteenth chapter.

* * *

**Chapter XVIII **

**Trust and Betrayal**

**-**

"The runt," lady Kaoru shouted. "The little liar. He'll pay for that."

Kenshin tried to follow her, but she plowed through the streets like a knife parting water. He had trouble keeping with her. How could she walk so fast in this packed crowd? Maybe her loud voice alerted people not to oppose her advance, lest her wrath befell them. She was certainly drawing attention to herself, and men and women turned to observed her fury at her approach. He, on the other hand, had to frequently bump into flocking passersby to open a path for himself, voicing only the barest of apology, or none at all.

Before him, lady Kaoru turned left, then right into a smaller alley. Did she even know where she was going? He ran after her. "Kaoru," he called. In truth he wasn't comfortable calling her just "Kaoru," but naming her a lady would attract even more attention. It might be misunderstood as a title rather than an expression of politeness—well, she was a true noble in any case. "Kaoru!" he called again. She stumped on, not listening to him. People were looking at him too now, some with a knowing smirk on their faces. Kenshin wondered briefly what they saw. Lovers quarrelling? Probably.

They came onto Suzakuoji. The capital's main road led directly to the imperial palace two miles to the north, where he had been just the day before. It was said to have been almost three hundred feet wide during the Heian era, and it must still have been an awe-inspiring sight to behold when the emperor and his family paraded on it, en route to a summer residence, followed by their retinue of lords and ladies and warriors and servants. But awe was hardly on his mind at the moment. What mattered was the width of the artery. It allowed him to finally catch up to lady Kaoru despite the rush of the mob in the early morning.

"Kaoru," he said, grabbing her arm. He tried to fake a smile, but he was quite sure it came out more as a grimace than anything else. "Where are you going?"

She struggled in his grip, but he held firm. "Let me go," she said fiercely.

"Tell me where you are going first," he insisted.

She glared at him as if he was a halfwit. "To my uncle's house, of course," she said. "I am going to clarify this whole matter with him, since you say you don't know where Soujiro is."

Kenshin almost winced. He knew well where he sent Soujiro, and he suspected the lady Kaoru wouldn't be happy if she found out. _When_ she found out. Still, it was for her own good, even if she would be too stubborn to admit it. The times were troubled, and the assassination attempt had changed everything.

"So?" lady Kaoru said.

He blinked, confused. "So what?"

"So, are you sure you don't want to tell me where Soujiro is?"

"I—no. I mean, yes, I don't know where we could find Soujiro at this moment." Which was the absolute truth. He had been careful in his wording. But a lie still remained a lie at heart, no matter how much one played with words, and it stung on his tongue.

Lady Kaoru gazed at him defiantly. "Then I have to inform my uncle of this… this groundless slander. And I have to tell him of what happened last night."

She tried to break free of his hold, but Kenshin pulled hard on her arm, tugging her close to him. He wasn't going to let her into danger again. "Didn't you hear what I told you? Your uncle tried to kill you," he whispered heatedly. "Going there now is like walking into the tiger's jaws. Why won't you listen?"

"You are hurting me," she said, her suddenly quiet voice almost drowned in the surrounding noise.

Kenshin became aware of his hand clawing into her frail wrist. He also became aware of how close she was. He smelled jasmine, subtle yet insisting. Memory of the night before came back to him, memories of the same scent enveloping him all the way back to Kyoto, memories of her hairs teasing his skin, of her breast pressed against his back, of her slender arms on his chest. Of her kisses on his cheek, on his jaw, on his neck. He felt the heat rise on his face. He let go of her wrist, tentatively. She didn't try to run away.

"My uncle has always been good to me," she said, "especially after my mother…." She shook her head, but Kenshin knew what she had been about to say anyway. "In a sense," she continued, "I was closer to him than to my own father. I…. You cannot ask me to take a stranger's words as gospel where he is concerned."

"But think, Kaoru," he said. "There were no servants at the house last night. Why would your uncle leave you with no protection whatsoever, in a mountain house removed from the city?"

Lady Kaoru averted her eyes. It was as if she was avoiding his gaze. "There were two servants at the house when we arrived," she murmured. "One was a sword expert, and was supposed to protect us."

"And where was he when you were attacked? We found no trace of anyone in the house afterwards." He remembered something. "This sword expert you speak of, would he have broom-like hair, and sporting many weapons on his person?"

She stared at him, surprised. "Ye—how did you know this?"

Silently Kenshin added the man to his to-kill list. Some people were going to pay for trying to murder his future bride. He shuddered, thinking of how close they had been to succeed. "I saw a man like this heading towards Kyoto last night, with two others, when I was heading to where you were."

"Maybe they had urgent business in the city," lady Kaoru said, avoiding his eyes again.

Kenshin had the distinctive impression that she was trying to make excuses. Didn't she trust him, even a little, after all that happened? He'd thought…. He'd been sure there had been a bond building between them, but she had felt nothing of the sort, apparently. "Business in the dead of the night, when their first task is to attend you? What could have been so urgent? And leaving precisely when you were attacked?" He took a step closer to her, trying to let her understand how she had been deceived. Why couldn't she see the obvious? "Don't you think it's too convenient?"

"A coincidence, nothing more," she said faintly.

"Look at me, Kaoru." She wouldn't. "You are lying to yourself. You know you are. Look at me," he insisted.

She turned her face to his. Kenshin saw with surprise the struggle so apparent in her eyes. "I know," she said, her voice slightly wavering. "I know. I agree it sounds suspicious, but I—I just can't condemn my uncle like this." She stifled a sob. "I can't…. At least I have to hear him out. Maybe he has a good explanation for all this. I have to go. In fact I'm sure he has." She looked at him, her eyes imploring. "Let me go, please."

How could he say no to such a plea? He was utterly powerless against her anguish. He nodded. "Then I'll go with you," he said. His hand landed on his sword's handle by pure instinct. He would protect her at all cost, and maybe settle a score or two. Hiko had asked for patience and restraint, but he felt entitled to blood after not one but two direct assassination attempts on lady Kaoru's person. "Promise me to be careful, and don't do anything reckless."

"I never do anything reckless," she said with a weak smile.

Heavens, she was adorable when she was like this, vulnerable and sweet at the same time. He snorted, hiding how moved he truly was. "Let's go."

They went east, across the Kamo River, to the outskirts of the city. At one point they could see the Kiyomizudera, where the monk Enchin was said to have enshrined the image of the goddess Kannon overlooking the Otowa no taki Falls. Or at least enshrined her semblance. No mortal could truly render a god's majesty, after all. Then they turned north, the narrow valley yawning below them on their right, before they finally reached their destination.

The house was vast in proportion, clear sign that a wealthy man resided there. No sound filtered through the paper screens upstairs that Kenshin could hear. Stone lanterns stood atop the roofs, and two gilded lions sat on each side of the main entrance, a massive double door shadowed by tile-roofed eaves.

"Some house," he said lightly. "Your uncle must be quite successful in his trade."

"Quite."

She was tense, Kenshin could see, her visage set in a mix of hopeful anticipation and grim determination. She was almost trembling. He took her hand in his, trying to calm her down. I am here for you, he wanted to say. She glanced at him, and nodded. A small grateful smile spread on her lips. Again he was struck by the lovely curves of her mouth when she smiled, the charming dimples that formed on her cheeks, the adorable ingenuousness she displayed when she dropped her snobbish act. He was falling for her, he realized. Briefly he wondered if it wouldn't be better to tell her everything, there and then. Stupid question; of course it would be better. The longer he dissembled, and the harder her hurt would be when she finally discovered his true identity. But… not yet. Not yet. They had already come this far, and he wanted to savor the simple relationship he still had with her, unsoiled by layer upon layer of distrust and misunderstandings. He didn't think he could bear her resentment when she learned who he truly was. He shook his head. Just for a little while, that was all he asked. It wouldn't last much longer, if all went well.

She observed him curiously, no doubt trying to decipher his expression. "Why are you staring at me?" she asked. "Something amiss?"

Kenshin discarded firmly his thoughts. "Just remember to be careful," he told her. She nodded. She knocked on the door.

It opened slightly. A female servant's head appeared in the doorway. She almost gaped as she took in lady Kaoru's presence. "Milady!" she said. "We—we weren't expecting your return!" She pulled the doors wide open.

"I wish to talk to my uncle," Kaoru said, walking in without hesitation, her strides confident and purposeful, very much so. Earlier traces of tension were evaporated now; she was wearing her aristocratic persona again. Kenshin had to admire her composure.

"I-I am sorry, my lady," the servant said, hurrying after her, "but lord Houji has already left."

Kenshin saw lady Kaoru stop in the interior yard, collected, as if it was of no great importance. Her lady-like mask was truly regal, the every image of noble breeding and proper education. He would have laughed in other circumstances. "Indeed?" he heard lady Kaoru say. "Then I shall wait for his return inside."

"Ah, that won't be possible," the servant said with an apologetic tone. "The lord is on a journey, and won't be back for some time."

Too bad. He wouldn't be able to kill the man then and there.

"A journey?" lady Kaoru asked. "Where did he go?"

"I-I do not know, milady."

"And did he left any message or any instruction for me?" She was still seemingly cool and detached, even as the truth must be settling in. At least Kenshin hoped it was settling in.

"He has left no words to you, or about you, milady." The servant's gaze dropped to the ground. "He—he said milady wouldn't return."

"How so?"

"I… I have no idea, milady."

Kenshin found the servant's attitude suspicious. She appeared flustered, and her eyes flittered left and right without ever looking straight in Kaoru's eyes. "You know something," he said as threateningly as he could. Speak."

"I—I do not know what you are talking abo—"

Kenshin drew his sword, the sound of his blade's birth reverberating in the air. "Speak," he said.

"I—I…." The woman dropped to her knees on the dirty ground. "I'm sorry, milady." She was crying now. "Yesterday night I heard my lord Houji tell Usui to have you killed."

"Suffice." Lady Kaoru's voice cracked like a whip. "You did not fail me," she said more gently. There was an ever so slight tremor in the inspiration lady Kaoru took then, sole visible sign of her dismay. She rested a hand on Kenshin's shoulder. It was as if she sought to take support on it. "Thank you," she said to the servant. "I've learned everything I wanted to know. Let us leave, Shinta," she said.

"I'm so sorry milady," the servant sobbed. "I couldn't be brave enough to warn you. I—I have failed you, milady—"

"Suffice," lady Kaoru said, her voice clacking in the air like a whip. "Your duty doesn't lie with me. You have not failed me." With that she edged away, not deigning to look back. Walking beside her, Kenshin could see it was no act of arrogance at all. She was fighting to simply keep her poise, her face cloudy and strained as if all mankind's weariness had befallen her suddenly. She tottered once, but she refused his assistance. Her chin and her nose stuck out as if in defiance, and Kenshin was very glad to see that her spirit was alive still, despite everything. At this instant she looked very much like the proud girl she was, not a woman yet, fighting to find her place in a world of cold men and their colder schemes.

They went back at the inn, for there was no other place to go for the lady. He had to guide her, for she seemed lost in a daze, hardly speaking a word, oblivious to the bustling city around her, to the merchants and farmers and mothers and children and servants and workmen attending their own business in broad daylight, to the beauty and ugliness of everyday's life, to the indifferent mountains and glazed sky. A ghost walking through the livings. Once a woman called to them, her brow set in perpetual creases, asking if they were newlyweds. She had talismans to sell them, she said, fantastic jewels that guaranteed many children to come and a fabulous stone ring that warded off evil spirits. But lady Kaoru ignored her, her hazy eyes were set on a distant vision only she could see. When Kenshin asked, she insisted she was perfectly fine.

They reached their inn at last about half an hour before noon, and lady Kaoru headed straight into her room. He followed her, stopping just on the sill.

"He betrayed me." she said, her back to him.

It was the very thing that he had tried to convince her of earlier, but now that she'd come to the same conclusion he felt a nagging desire to tell her she was wrong, that it was all a misunderstanding somehow. He knew how it felt to be betrayed—he _knew._ It stung you, perhaps harder than anything else. And she was about to be betrayed again, soon. He would be the one to do it this time.

But what he simply said was, "yes."

"You were right after all," she said with a dying voice.

"My lady…"

"Please leave me alone, Shinta. I… I need to be alone."

Kenshin nodded, even if she couldn't see him do so. He understood that need. He judged the risk of silent killers lurking in broad daylight slim, so there was no real danger leaving her alone in her room. "I will wait outside." He slid the door shut.

It was maybe half an hour later that Soujiro found him sitting on the boards outside the rooms.

"I am back," Soujiro greeted. His clothes were covered in dust, as if having spent the night on the road. Which he must have had. "Did you miss me?"

"You are here earlier than I expected," Kenshin said, rising. His heart was pounding a little harder, its rhythm ringing louder and louder in his skull. The moment he'd dreaded and longed for was finally there. "Did you bring them?" A rhetorical question, that. He was sure Soujiro did what he'd asked him to do.

"They are coming," Soujiro said. "I went ahead of them to warn you, samurai-san."

"Did you meet them on the road?"

"Ah, no, I had to go all the way to Izushi."

The boy was decidedly full of surprise. "You went to Izushi and back in less than fifteen hours?"

Soujiro smiled happily, scratching the side of his jaw with a finger. "Well, less than that, in fact. I lost some time when I tried to get an audience with lord Izushi. They didn't want to wake him up, you know. And when I mentioned the lady Kaoru they went all mad and became violent and all." He made a face, then smiled again. "I had to crack some heads to make them see reason." He nodded, as if satisfied with himself.

"I hope you didn't kill anyone," Kenshin said, amused despite himself.

"Oh no no, that would have been a very impolite thing to do, right? Just some bruises here and there, nothing severe. Three months in bed and they should be able to walk on their feet again."

Kenshin snorted. The boy was growing on him, even if he had been an enemy just days before. Strange really. Kenshin couldn't remember getting attached to someone this fast in the past. Apart from lady Kaoru, but that was another story entirely. "When will they be here?"

"Soon. I left them just a little while ago."

Kenshin raised an eyebrow. "Are you telling me you run faster than horses?"

Soujiro rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish grin. "It's not my fault if horses are so slow."

Kenshin chuckled. But he sobered as soon as he remembered exactly why Kamiya men were coming here. He rose, drank some water from the cistern to calm himself down, then pointed at an unremarkable room. "Lady Kaoru is in there," he told Soujiro. "Bring them in as soon as they arrive."

He padded to the room's door, stopped outside. He wanted to say his goodbyes. "Kaoru-dono," he called softly. No answer. "Kaoru-dono." Still no answer. He opened the door, not particularly worried, went in, and closed it behind him. Lady Kaoru lay beneath her blanket in her futon, the back of her head turned towards him on the small pillow.

"Lady Kaoru," he murmured.

"I thought I told you I wanted to be left alone," she said, her tone blank.

"Are you crying?"

"I am not."

He edged closer, knelt by the bedside. "I know how you must be hurting right now, but—"

She turned brusquely towards him. She was indeed not crying. Instead, her features burned with anger. Anger at her uncle? Anger at him, for intruding on her privacy? Anger at herself, for letting herself be fooled? A little of all that, he suspected.

"How would you know how I am feeling?" she said through clenched teeth. "I don't want your pity. You know nothing. Nothing of how it feels to be betrayed—"

"I know about betrayal," he whispered. "Oh yes."

Lady Kaoru was observing him with surprise, he saw, the sharp words on her tongue dying down. He smiled at her. "Let me tell you a story," he said. It was something he'd never confided to anyone. He wanted to tell her now.

"Once there was a boy living somewhere in Japan. The boy's father had a good friend, and this friend had a daughter just a little older than the boy, and she was beautiful and smart, and the boy liked her very much. Very much indeed.

"The girl wasn't particularly interested in the boy at first. She was beautiful, as I said, a sort of cold beauty that was remote and utterly compelling at the same time, and once a man had set eyes on her he was completely under her spell. And so even at age fourteen there were many men courting her, men of rank and prestige, all vying for her favors and her hand. The boy was just one among many, and too shy to really approach her at that, so she paid him no attention.

"But the boy's father would visit his friend often, or the friend would visit back, and the boy would often see the girl. He found out over time that she wasn't as remote as her bearing suggested, and not vain despite all the attention she received from older men. He became less shy, and the two of them grew closer, and they would always play together whenever they met.

"The more he saw the girl, the more the boy grew smitten with her. He was captivated by everything about her, and he thought she was the woman of his life. He started stopping paying attention to other girls, dreaming only of her, of white plum scent that always lingered about her. She must have noticed his heightened attention, for she already had some experience dealing with men infatuated with her, but she didn't say anything, and continued as if there was nothing out of the ordinary between them.

"The both grew older, and one day, the boy found enough courage in him to declare his undying love to the girl. Oh, how naïve he was back then." Kenshin stopped there, a small lump in his throat. He suddenly wondered if it had been a good idea to broach this subject at all.

"What happened then?" Lady Kaoru was drawn into the tale, it seemed. At least it made her forget her own worries for a while, which was what he'd sought to do.

"She just smiled at him, something she did rarely. The boy was delighted, of course. She hadn't answered directly, but hadn't rebuked him either, and he took it as a sign that she loved him as well. Who knows, maybe she really did." He paused. "In any case, they continued seeing each other, closer than ever before. One night, as they both sat in his father's garden, chatting about this and that, the boy felt bold enough and did what he had wanted to do for a long, long time. He took her hand, and as she gently looked back at him, calm and unafraid, he kissed her." Kenshin snorted. "It wasn't the boy's first kiss by any mean, mind you, but he could have sworn then that it was the sweetest thing he'd ever tasted. Afterwards she told him that she liked him as well. He could have died from happiness.

"Their parents saw this, and they were pleased. They began talking about marriage between the two. It would have been a convenient union, cementing the two men's friendship, and also be a love match, something both men had been denied. The boy learned of it, and was overjoyed. There hadn't been much warmth in his youth, you see. His mother had died while giving birth to him, and he had never been close to his father or his elder brother. The girl was the lone beacon in his life, and he swore to never let her go."

"But something went wrong," lady Kaoru guessed. She looked at him, her eyes very wide and blurred with sadness. She was very beautiful, and yet she looked nothing like Tomoe.

"Something went wrong indeed," he said, taking a sharp breath. "The country was going through a time of great confusion. The old shogunate was dying, while the emperor tried to reassert his power. It happened that the girl's father was a samurai, and he had a parcel of land that was of great strategic importance. He was attacked, by both armies and hired assassins. He survived, but feared more and more for his life and his land. He discussed this with the boy's father in great secrecy.

"You see, the two men were friends, but their clans were not. The boy's father could not come to his friend's aid directly, for his clan wouldn't allow it. The boy was too young, not of age to be wed yet. So it was decided that his father would marry the girl instead, so that no one could honorably oppose him going to his friend's—and now father-in-law's—aid.

"The boy was horrified to learn this. He couldn't bear to lose the girl. He went to see her, thinking that she could convince her doting father to change his mind. But she wouldn't. He was… very surprised at this. He thought she loved him as much as he loved her, and told her so. She simply smiled at him. She liked him, she said, but there were things that went above such considerations. She would wed his father, and that was that."

"I see," lady Kaoru murmured. "He must have been very shocked."

"He was."

"And then, what happened?"

Kenshin shrugged. "In desperation, the boy ran to his father, and provoked him to a duel. It was… childish behavior, but his father accepted nonetheless, and beat him soundly. The wedding took place as planned, and husband and wife lived happily ever after." He sounded bitter to his own ears.

Lady Kaoru touched his cheek with the palm of her hand. "This boy, it's you, isn't it?"

Obviously. Kenshin shrugged again. "Probably," he said lightly.

He heard a ruckus outside, followed by metallic steps on the alley boards. So they were here at last. He rose from where he knelt. He feared lady Kaoru's reaction, but he couldn't deny his relief that the dissembling game would come to an end at last. "Whatever you come to think of me, my lady," he whispered, "remember that I do it for you own good. It is far too dangerous for you to wander about," he said, "lady Kamiya."

Her eyes rounded to two saucers. Behind him, the door slid open. Kenshin heard men burst in, saw their shadows stretch on the walls, felt their presence, suffocating in the small room. Lady Kaoru looked past his shoulders at them with horror.

"S-Sado?" she stammered, "Nishiga, Reito... Takeshi. What… What are you doing here?" They were there to retrieve her, of course. Kenshin saw her come to the same realization. Her gaze flew at his, harpooning it. Her whole face contorted in anger. "You," she snarled with more venom than he'd thought she possessed in her slender frame, "it was you, wasn't it? It was you who brought them here!"

He nodded. He fought to keep an expressionless mask, but there was pain in him now. She would hate him, everything they'd gone through together flying out the window. He wondered if he would ever be able to be rid of this hatred, if she would ever forgive him for that.

"You sold me out!"

He turned around, unable to endure her rage anymore. He gave a small shrug, as if to say that it didn't matter at all, when in fact the gesture cost him more than maybe anything else he'd ever done. "Take good care of her," he told the men. He couldn't see the warriors' faces clearly. Everything was blurry, every lines jammed together in some mad pattern. "Take good care of her," he repeated softly.

"Why? Why, Shinta?" Lady Kaoru was all but shrieking.

He paused in the doorframe. He considered fleeing, but she deserved better than that. He had to tell her. "My name is not Shinta," he said, his voice as clear as he could make it. "I am Kenshin." He stepped out. "Himura Kenshin." There was an audible gasp behind him. He closed the door.

-

There was a girl, in the room he just left, staring at the rice screens long after the seedy yellow papers cut off the day's dull brightness. She was gaping, her heart pounding, her lungs burning, but she was aware of none of that. She tried to speak, but only hoarse whispers could be heard from her. There were a thousand thoughts whirling through her mind, a thousand fragmented memories, none of them coherent. All she would see—could see—were lighter blots staining the paper panes on the door, and all she could hear was the sound of muffled steps slowly moving away, one foot after the other, one foot after the other, one foot after the other, one foot after the other. 

The girl, not yet a woman, had thought she knew about betrayal. Not so well after all, it seemed.

———«»———«»———«»———

Heiankyo's first architects certainly meant to inspire awe and evoke glory when they planned for Suzakuoji, the road that would divide the city in half. Of course, mortals planned and gods decided. The city—which men now called Kyoto—lost its intended balance, but the road remained, and it was on the same road emperor Godaigo made his grand return a day in summer under the sweltering heat, restored as head of state. His triumphant entry had certainly evoked glory then, the son of heavens coming back to reclaim what belonged to him by divine right. The loss of Kyoto had been a massive blow to the Kamakura shogunate still in power back then. And that loss had been made possible by a sole man, Ashikaga Takauji.

It was now three and a half years later, and the same Ashikaga Takauji was riding off the city on the same street, in no less impressive pomp, but his retinue, instead of courtiers and nobles, consisted of orderly ranks of soldiers marching or riding, two thousand of them. Hojo Tokiyuki was stirring a rebellion in Kamakura, trying to revive the old shogunate. No one would be foolish enough to lead an army across snow-covered passes in the dead of winter, or so Hoji must have counted on. Unfortunately for him, the general Ashikaga was just foolish enough to do so. More troops awaited the general outside the city, and more still on his road. He and his mighty host would crush the rebellion, of that the common folk had no doubt.

From the shadow of an alley, a man—Himura Kenshin—observed the general through slanted eyes, his head hidden under a large circular straw hat. He took in Ashikaga's straight back, his thick beard gleaming under his crimson helmet, his powerful build visible under his intricate armor, his surprisingly thin and long fingers on his reins. Everything in him spoke of powerful confidence, of brutal arrogance even.

Himura Kenshin had his doubts about the man, as did many others, albeit few dared to voice them openly. It was whispered that the general had his brother kill prince Morinaga, the emperor's first son, in the chaos that followed the uprising in Kamakura. Why, no one was really sure. The general Ashikaga had a well-known dislike for the prince, perhaps because the prince had had the audacity to accept the title of Shogun, a honor Ashikaga himself had aspired to.

In any case, the prince was no more. Changes to come hung in the air, and troubles were brewing; Himura Kenshin felt them in his bones. But for now he could just wait and see, like everyone else.

"Look here, samurai-san," Soujiro said beside him, pointing at a man riding behind Ashikaga. "That's Houji." The boy was unusually quiet.

Kenshin observed the man, engraving each line of his face in his memory. So that was where the man was. Kenshin itched to confront him then and there, but refrained himself. Patience was a virtue, or so the priests taught. One day, he knew, he would find the same Houji on his path again, and that day would be the day heads rolled. Scores would be settled, prices would be paid. It was the way of the samurai, and it was also his heart's desire.

"Soujiro, can I ask you something?" he said.

"Sure, samurai-san."

"Why did you betray your master?"

Soujiro pondered this for a moment. "Well, Houji wasn't really my master. He saved my life once, and I've just followed him since then."

"Still."

Soujiro laughed softly. "I was getting bored of doing Houji's dirty works. And you seemed really strong, so I thought it would be interesting to follow you. Besides," he said beaming, "I'm not a samurai to begin with. I'm only a farmer's son, so I have no code of honor to follow or to betray."

"I see." Kenshin observed the procession of soldiers for a time. "Houji is a mortal enemy of mine now," he said at last. "I will have his head one day. What will you do then? Will you seek to stop me? To protect him?"

A long silence, then Soujiro murmured, "I don't know."

"When the day comes, don't oppose me, or I will have to kill you too."

They both fell silent after that, watching warriors walk down Suzakuoji under a masked sun, until they were nothing more than minuscule mirages buried in thick clouds of dust. Eventually they disappeared entirely. Crows croaked over them, somewhere in the world.

Kenshin thought of a prince now dead, and of a general riding to Kamakura, once the seat to a shogunate, with thousands of soldier at his command, many of them discontented by the emperor's new policies. He also thought of a woman's shrieks, accusations resonating in his head still. He thought of her gasp as he left her. He felt confused, but didn't bother to sort out his emotions, whatever they were. The general was off to war, and the woman would be escorted back to her father's estate. What was to happen next could begin now.

**End of Part I**

* * *

**A/N**: Part II begins next chapter, which may take some time to be posted, since I want to rewrite a second draft of the first part first (I would prefer to wait a bit for that, but that's internet posting for you). Besides, I don't really have much time for the moment! 

Now some historical remarks if you would allow me: I've taken enormous liberties with History. The actual rebellion didn't start until summer for one thing, and Ashikaga certainly didn't have had a grand exit in Kyoto. In fact it seems he went to Kamakura without the emperor's assent, and his army was a hastily scrambled one. So I'm considering changing historical characters' names to fictional ones, to make it a sort of alternate history. History isn't the main focus of this story anyway. Please tell me what you think of it.


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